


Headlights on Dark Roads

by GreyMichaela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Just one if it helps), Bloody, Explosions, Gritty, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Sam finally gets a dog, This is the meanest I've ever been to Gabriel, Torture, and you guys know that's saying something, no dogs were harmed for Sam, world at war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-26 01:18:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3831844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/pseuds/GreyMichaela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is a rebel fighter, working to bring down the post-apocalyptic government.  Gabriel is a soldier working for the regime Sam hates.  They share a one night stand and part ways, thinking they'll never see each other again.</p><p>When Gabriel is injured by Sam's plot, Sam has no choice but to take Gabriel back to his camp with him to save his life and keep him from bleeding out in the rubble.  </p><p>They must put aside their differences and learn to live together, with the world at war outside their front door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nahemaraxe (zephyrina)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephyrina/gifts).



Sam had been in the bar for a solid two hours and he was bored out of his mind. Sitting where he could watch the building opposite the bar meant that he was right up against the bathrooms, nearly getting smacked every time some drunk stumbled past him to take a piss.

Sam glared at the beer he was nursing.  He couldn’t risk getting actually drunk; he needed a clear head so he could keep track of the comings and goings from the command center.  But the bartender was shooting him increasingly annoyed glances too. The bar was filling up and Sam was keeping a table all to himself, discouraging anyone who tried to sit down with a silent glare and an invitation to keep moving.

So when the short blond man flopped into the seat opposite him, Sam wasn’t inclined to be friendly.

“Not interested,” he said flatly.

The blond arched an eyebrow.  “Not interested in _what,_ exactly?” he asked. “Because all _I’m_ interested in is a place to park my ass for a few minutes, and you’ve been hogging this table long enough.”

Sam glared at him.  “I’m not in the mood for company,” he said.

“Fine,” the other man said easily.  “So I won’t talk. I’ll sit here and enjoy the view.”

Sam looked up but the blond wasn’t looking out the window.  He was staring straight at Sam, his head slightly to one side, a smile quirking his clever mouth and amusement alight in amber eyes.

Sam sucked in a startled breath.  “That’s not…”

“Didn’t say I was going to _do_ anything about it,” the other man said.  “But there’s still no law against looking.  ‘Least, not last I heard.  I’m Gabriel.”

“S – uh, Steve,” Sam said, caught flatfooted.

“Nice to meet you, Steve,” Gabriel said.  “Haven’t seen you around before.  New in town?”

“Passing through,” Sam said.  “I’m a trader. You?”  _What was he doing? He should be chasing the gregarious stranger off, not asking questions._

“Lowly cog in the wheel of the great government machine, I’m afraid,” Gabriel sighed, unzipping his jacket, and Sam froze.  That was a _uniform_ under there, black sleeves with golden insignia and Sam was _so fucked_ , he was sitting across from a _soldier_ and he was going to die, this was how his life would end.

Gabriel cocked his head.  “You okay there, kiddo?”

“Thirsty,” Sam croaked, and drained the dregs of his beer.

“I’ll get the next round,” Gabriel said, and was out of his seat before Sam could protest.

Sam looked around wildly for an escape route.  The windows in the bathroom were too small for his broad shoulders to fit through. The only way out was back through the bar, right past where Gabriel was leaning against the counter talking to the bartender, and he’d never make it without being seen.

He sat still, paralyzed by indecision, as Gabriel came back with four mugs of beer and set them on the table with a wink.

“Figured we might as well save ourselves at least one trip,” he said. “Cheers!”

Sam toasted him dumbly, unable to think of a single thing to say.

Gabriel was a quick worker, polishing off three of the mugs before Sam was done with the first.  His dark blond hair was beginning to fall out of its carefully gelled back coif, and he was getting a little unbalanced, his eyes shining golden as he told Sam a story about… a donkey?

“So where exactly do you work?” Sam asked after the donkey story was finished.

Gabriel blinked owlishly and pointed at the courthouse.

“No shit?” Sam breathed, sounding properly impressed.  “What do you do?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes.  “Most boring job in the world,” he groused, toying with a coaster.  “I stand outside the door when the generals are in council and I try to look imposing.  Not easy when you’re only five foot eight.”

“I’m sure you’re very impressive when you want to be,” Sam said, smiling at him. The blatant flattery worked and Gabriel almost _preened._

“It’s mind-numbing,” he admitted.  “But ‘least it’s not _hard_ work.”

“Are you there day _and_ night?” Sam asked.

“Nah,” Gabriel said, looking at his empty mug in disappointment. “Everyone goes home at night ‘cept for the security guard, and he sleeps in the guard shack all night. Useless bastard, he is.”

Sam steered the conversation to safer waters.  Gabriel lived alone.  No pets. Very few friends. No girlfriend.

“I’m engaged, of course,” Gabriel said, mobile mouth twisting into a grimace. “But she lives in New Orleans. I still have another year of freedom.  You?”

Sam nodded in commiseration, thinking fast.  “Haven’t met mine yet,” he said, signaling the bartender for another round. “On my way there now, in fact. Figured I’d make a selling trip out of it, see if I can make a little off the journey, you know?”

Gabriel accepted the next beer with delight, swallowing half of it immediately as the barkeep, a paunchy older man with a permanent scowl, picked up their empty mugs. “Last round,” he rasped. “Y’all been here long enough. I wanna go home.”

Sam looked around, startled to realize that the bar was almost empty.

“Oh, c’mon Frank,” Gabriel whined.  “Just one more?”

“No,” Frank snapped.  “Finish that one and get the hell out of here.”

He stalked away and Gabriel sighed.  “Frank seems like an asshole,” he confided to Sam, “but deep down, he really hates everyone.”

Sam snorted a laugh and stood, holding out a hand to help Gabriel to his feet. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here before he kicks our asses.”

Gabriel stood up, swaying a little, his eyes unfocused.  Sam steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. He was considerably more sober than the shorter man, and he felt a little guilty about taking advantage of him, but his mission was more important.  Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he’d end up believing it.

Sam paid Frank on their way out the door.  He glanced over at the big building across the street as Gabriel leaned against him, trying to get his bearings.

“I’m that way,” Gabriel said, pointing.

“So am I,” Sam said, and they started walking.  The streets were dark, almost everyone in bed.  Sam checked his watch; they only had a few minutes before curfew. “We should hurry,” he said. “My rig’s the other side of town. I don’t want to spend the night in jail.”

Gabriel hummed in agreement and they sped up a little.  An easy silence fell as they walked.  Within a minute or two, Gabriel was pointing at a darkened building down an alley.

“That’s me,” he said.

“So do you work tomorrow?” Sam said.

Gabriel nodded.  “Business as usual, I’m ‘fraid. Off the same time as today.”

“And you’re the last person out of the courthouse?” Sam asked.

Gabriel tilted his head, confusion flitting across his mobile features. “I thought I already said that. Didn’t I already say that? Why are you so interested in the courthouse, Steve?”

Sam moved without thinking, desperate to stop Gabriel’s suspicions, and was kissing the shorter man before Gabriel could react.

Gabriel made a shocked noise into Sam’s mouth and then he was kissing back, going up on tiptoes and licking inside Sam’s heat with a shaky moan. He tasted like beer and peanuts and Sam bent a little, picking Gabriel up and stumbling forward until Gabriel’s back was shoved up against the brick wall.

Gabriel’s thighs were around Sam’s waist, his arms clutching Sam’s shoulders as he nibbled and sucked and nipped his way down Sam’s throat.

Sam closed his eyes and groaned, running his hands up and down Gabriel’s well-muscled legs.  It didn’t matter that he shouldn’t want this, that he had a mission to fulfill and the _last_ thing he should be doing was grinding against a stranger in an alley; he was so hard it ached, want and need thrumming in his blood, and judging by Gabriel’s breathy whimpers, he wasn’t alone.

Heavy footsteps startled them apart and they stared at each other in the dim light of the weak streetlight.  Sam checked his watch. _Shit. Past curfew._ If he was caught now, the whole thing could be exposed.

Gabriel solved his dilemma by grabbing his wrist and dragging him towards his door. He unlocked it without letting go of Sam, yanking him over the threshold and shutting the door hard behind them.

Sam stumbled and caught himself, glancing around the dingy apartment. He didn’t get much of a look before Gabriel was advancing on him, a predatory look in his eyes. Sam swallowed hard but stood his ground and Gabriel crowded right into his space.

“Stay the night,” he whispered, and Sam shivered.

“I shouldn’t,” he managed.  _Mission.  Job to do._

Gabriel took another step closer, their bodies pressed together in a long line of delicious heat, and Sam closed his eyes, sucking in air.

“Stay. The. Night,” Gabriel repeated.

It was impossible to think straight with Gabriel so close.  _Fuck it. I’ll leave as soon as we’re done._ Sam bent his head and kissed him, tongues teasing and tasting as Gabriel fisted his hands in the front of Sam’s shirt and began to walk him backwards.

Sam let him, floating on the sea of lust and beer coursing through his veins, until the backs of his knees hit something and he was toppling onto his back, sprawled onto a soft mattress.

Gabriel followed, swarming up Sam’s body and covering it with his own. The heat in his eyes made Sam’s mouth dry and he caught Gabriel’s head and pulled it down to his so he could kiss him again.

Gabriel was making rough, agreeable sounds in the back of his throat and Sam had never been this turned on in his _life_. If Gabriel didn’t stop grinding against him, he was going to come then and there.

He managed to pull away enough to point this out and Gabriel grinned down at him, lips kiss-swollen and bitten red.

“I see no problem, Stevie,” he said.

“Don’t call me Stevie,” Sam growled, and pushed up for another kiss.

Gabriel laughed into his mouth, breathless and wild, hands _everywhere,_ and Sam couldn’t breathe, he wanted him so much.

He rolled, flipping them so that Gabriel was pinned beneath him, staring up at him with startled eyes.

“Get naked,” Sam commanded, and Gabriel began yanking his clothes off in a frenzied rush. He got stuck in the hole of the t-shirt he was wearing under his uniform and flailed, turning the air blue with curses while Sam fell on his side and laughed helplessly.

“Stop mocking me and _help_ me,” Gabriel snarled, and Sam wiped his streaming eyes and sat up, disentangling him from the shirt until he emerged, blinking and disgruntled.

Then his eyes fell to Sam’s chest and widened. “Oh… _damn…_ ” he said reverently.  “I knew you had a nice body under all those layers, but this is the fucking _jackpot._ ”

“Possibly literally,” Sam said, pushing Gabriel back against the mattress. “Be still now.” He slid off the bed, landing between Gabriel’s legs where they hung off the bed, and Gabriel swallowed hard.

“Steve…”

“Condoms?” Sam asked, and Gabriel pointed wordlessly at his bedside table.

“They’re pre-Crash, but they’ll get the job done,” he said.

Sam dug them out and rolled one onto Gabriel’s length in one smooth motion as Gabriel bucked up into his hand with a wordless moan.

Then Sam was leaning over him and Gabriel gathered two handfuls of the bedspread in shaking fingers.

Sam splayed his hands against the sharp jut of Gabriel’s hipbones, holding him flat against the bed, and began to slowly, methodically take the shorter man apart. He hadn’t done this very often, had never really enjoyed it before, but Gabriel fell apart so beautifully, thighs trembling where they rested on Sam’s shoulders, his cock a silken weight on Sam’s tongue, and Sam decided he could stay like this for hours, using his mouth to drive Gabriel right out of his mind.

He freed one hand to reach down and grip himself, stroking in smooth motions in time to his roving tongue.  Gabriel’s hand slid into Sam’s hair, catching and snagging, and Sam welcomed the tiny starbursts of pain, letting them keep him grounded as he pushed Gabriel to the brink.

Gabriel’s stomach tightened and he choked on a warning, back arching as he filled the condom, and Sam groaned and followed him, spilling on the floor between his splayed legs with a shudder.

Finally he pulled off with a wet pop and sat back, panting for air. Gabriel had one arm draped across his eyes, his body limp against the mattress, and Sam couldn’t help his satisfied smile as he crawled back onto the bed and collapsed, face down, next to him.

Gabriel pulled the condom off and dropped it on the floor.

“Gross,” Sam observed without looking up.

Gabriel rolled over, snugging himself in tight against Sam’s side. “Warm,” he mumbled. “I’ll clean it up later.”

“Mm-hm,” Sam agreed, and then he was asleep.

 

He woke early, disentangling himself from Gabriel’s flung out arm and leg; the man slept like a _starfish_ , Sam thought, amused. He gathered his clothes from where they were scattered on the floor and tiptoed to the door.  Gabriel’s eyes were closed, mouth soft in sleep, and Sam looked at him for a long moment before slipping out into the living room to put his clothes on.

The sun was barely up, curfew lifted, and Sam made it out the door and to the outskirts of town at a brisk walk without being noticed by the inhabitants of the city, who were beginning to stir.

He checked his truck carefully, but nothing had been disturbed, the hidden and locked compartments still safely untouched.  Sam breathed a sigh of relief and crawled into the bed of the camper, curling up on the cot.  He had nothing to do until sunset, when the courthouse was empty; might as well get some rest between now and then.  This was his first solo mission, the first time he’d been trusted to go alone for _anything,_ let alone something this important, and Sam was determined not to screw it up.

 

When the sun went down, Sam was already in motion.  He drove into town, parking his truck in the courthouse parking lot. His janitor uniform was in place, and he wheeled his cart into the building without anyone giving him a second look.

The building was almost deserted.  Sam had studied the blueprints thoroughly, and knew that the war-room was on the first floor in one of the old courtrooms, but that Gabriel would likely still be there. Sam headed for the elevator, punching the button for the second floor.  Once there, he wheeled his heavy cart into the corridor and down the hall to the room directly above his actual target.  This floor was already empty, and Sam worked silently and swiftly, placing secondary detonation charges that would be triggered by the main blast downstairs.

It took him a full hour and he checked out the window, nodding to himself to see that the parking lot was empty except for his vehicle.

He pushed the now-lighter cart back down the hall into the elevator, emerging cautiously on the first floor, but there was no one around, the lights dimmed. Sam moved a little more confidently, heading straight for the war-room and pulling out his lock-pick set. He could pick tumblers in his sleep, and even with the extra adrenaline in his system, he was through the lock in under a minute, straightening with a relieved breath and shutting the door quietly behind him.

It didn’t take him long to set up the C4 in this room.  He knew there was very little sensitive information here, and that wasn’t his job anyway.  He was here to send a message – _we are here and you cannot escape justice_ – and that was all. 

The charges set, Sam lifted out the timer and set it for ten minutes. It began to count downward and Sam took one more look around and left.

He started his truck and moved it to the far side of the lot.  The explosives were enough to blow a hole in the building but there wouldn’t be much, if any, collateral damage.  Even Harold, sound asleep in the guard shack, would be untouched. Still, flying debris through the windshield could raise thorny questions if Sam was stopped on his way back to camp.

He was under orders to set the timer and go, but Sam hated to drive away without making sure the job was done thoroughly.  What if something went wrong? What if the timer malfunctioned or one of the charges didn’t detonate?

Three minutes… two… Sam was on the edge of the truck’s bench seat, breath coming in shallow gasps, when he spied a slim figure jogging briskly up the path and his heart stopped.

 _Gabriel._  There was no mistaking that confident gait. The soldier was moving quickly, as if he’d forgotten something, and Sam was utterly frozen in horror. He _couldn’t_ blow his cover, couldn’t stop Gabriel, but how could he let him walk into a building that was going to explode in… oh _God,_ less than a minute?

Gabriel went up the steps and paused in front of the heavy door to pull out his key ring and Sam made up his mind.  He scrambled out of the truck and opened his mouth, and Gabriel disappeared inside before Sam could make a noise.

 _Shit, shit,_ shit. Sam sprinted forward. “ _Gabriel_!Gabriel, _stop_!”He covered the parking lot in a matter of seconds and was halfway up the steps when the bomb went off with a heavy _whump_ , the shockwave lifting him right off his feet and flinging him backward with vicious force.

Sam landed and rolled, choking on the thick dust billowing out of the hole where the courtroom used to be.  He lay still for a minute, struggling to catch his breath as his ears rang.

Slowly the noise in his head died down and he was able to drag himself to his feet and take a few limping steps forward, which was when he realized the high-pitched noise wasn’t just his ears protesting.

Gabriel was screaming in pain from somewhere inside the building, his voice twisted with agony, and Sam wanted to double over and vomit on the grass from the combined guilt and horror that assaulted him.

 _Go in there and get him,_ Sam’s conscience shrieked, and he was already stumbling for the door when his logical brain took over.

_There’ll be emergency personnel on scene in minutes.  If you don’t leave now, you’re a dead man._

Gabriel’s screams had tapered off into sobs, thick and choking, and Sam clenched his fists, hating himself.

 _If you leave,_ Gabriel’s _a dead man.  But if Gabriel was making noise, he was alive, right?_

As if on cue, Gabriel went silent and Sam groaned.  _No._ He was moving without conscious thought, running up the steps and into the building.  Gabriel wasn’t far inside the marble hallway, lying in plain sight on the floor, surrounded by rubble. His face was white, eyes closed, his entire body limp, and… Sam’s heart clenched.  It looked like a huge slab of concrete was resting on Gabriel’s lower half. _Oh no._  Sam rushed forward and fell to his knees beside him.

Gabriel’s left leg was free, but his right leg… the slab had landed squarely on it and Gabriel’s leg was severed just above the knee, his belt wrapped around the bloody stump in a desperate attempt at a tourniquet.  He must have passed out applying it, Sam realized with another rush of horror.

He swallowed bile and felt for a pulse.  It was fast and thready but it was there, and with a sinking sense of inevitability, Sam made his decision.

He bent and scooped Gabriel’s slender frame up and into his arms and ran for the door. It was still silent and dark outside, the bar closed on Sunday, but Sam could hear the wail of distant sirens.

He rushed for the truck, bundling Gabriel onto the seat with very little finesse and hurling himself into the driver’s seat.

He made it around the first corner as the sirens got louder behind him and the street began to fill with flashing lights, but he waited another block before he turned on the headlights.

Gabriel was utterly still on the bench next to him, and Sam kept a hand on the shorter man’s chest, both to keep him from sliding onto the floor when Sam braked and to make sure Gabriel’s heart was still beating.

 _Please don’t die please don’t die,_ Sam chanted silently.

 

Art by the incredible, incomparable, ridiculously talented Zomberflie.  I put it at the bottom of the chapter because that's kind of a huge spoiler there. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Gabriel's leg is cauterized to stop the bleeding.

He drove until he was out of town and well into the back roads, hopefully far away from any random patrols.  Enveloped by the dark, Sam pulled over and dashed around to the passenger’s side of the truck. Gabriel was still unmoving but two fingers on his neck assured Sam that he was alive.  Sam bent to examine Gabriel’s injuries, the dome light in the cab his only illumination.

A sluggish trickle of blood still pumped from the stump of Gabriel’s leg, and Sam tightened the tourniquet, shaking hands slipping in the blood as he struggled to cut off the flow.  Finally he had it as tight as it would go and he took a deep breath to steady himself before turning to assess the rest of Gabriel’s injuries.

The leg was the worst of it, he decided after a few minutes.  There was a deep gash on Gabriel’s forehead that was still oozing blood, and his right wrist was swelling rapidly.  Fractured at the very least, Sam thought, but nothing else seemed life threatening at first glance.  He looked up as Gabriel twitched and moaned, opening his eyes.

Sam bit his lip.  Confusion swam in the golden depths of Gabriel’s eyes and he moved his head, wincing.

“Where… what happened? Steve?”  He moved to sit up and froze, face twisting in pain.

“My name isn’t Steve,” Sam said. And why was _that_ the first thing out of his mouth?  He wanted to kick himself.  _Stupid, stupid, thoughtless…_

Gabriel stared at him.  “Why are you wearing a janitor’s uniform?  St– dammit, what _is_ your name?”

“Sam,” Sam said helplessly.  “I’m Sam.”

Awareness was dawning on Gabriel’s face.  “You set that bomb,” he whispered, and there was horror in his voice.

“You weren’t supposed to be there!” Sam said, hating his defensive tone. “ _No one_ was supposed to be there!”

Gabriel was looking at him, pain and revulsion contorting his blood-streaked features, and Sam swallowed hard. 

“You set that bomb,” Gabriel repeated, “and then you… you kidnapped me, is that it? Are you going to torture me for information or hold me for ransom?”  His breath hitched and he groaned, hands fluttering as another spasm wracked his body.

“No,” Sam protested.  “ _No_!  I got you out of the building because you were about to bleed out, and I had to run because the cops were on their way and I didn’t _want_ to take you with me but I didn’t have a choice, you would have _died,_ Gabriel, I had to save you!”

“I wouldn’t have… needed saving in the first place if it weren’t for you,” Gabriel gritted out, and Sam flinched.

“I know,” he whispered.  “I know and I’m so sorry.  I just… look, you need medical attention.  Can you save the hating me for later so we can focus on keeping you alive?”

“I think I can… multitask,” Gabriel managed.

Sam winced. Apologizing again was pointless. There was very real loathing in Gabriel’s eyes.

“What’s the damage, anyway?” Gabriel asked.  He was still flat on his back and now he was staring up at the ceiling of the cab.

“You don’t know?” Sam said.  _Oh Jesus, how was he supposed to tell Gabriel that he’d lost a leg?_

“My world… is pain at the – ah – moment,” Gabriel said.  “Can’t… tell one ache from… another.”

Sam swallowed again, fighting nausea.

Gabriel’s eyes fixed on his face with laser-like intensity.  “Tell me right fucking now, Sam,” he snapped.

“You lost your right leg above the knee,” Sam said miserably.  There were tears in his eyes but he held them back with sheer force of will.

Gabriel stared at him for a long moment and then shook his head.  “No.  I dreamed that. No.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam whispered.

“ _No,_ ” Gabriel said again. He caught the back of the seat and tried to pull himself to a sitting position.  Sam grabbed his shoulders and held him down.

“Don’t move!” he said.  “I only just got the bleeding stopped.”

“Fuck you,” Gabriel snarled.  “I want to _see._ ”

Sam bit his lip and leaned into the cab so that he could slide an arm under Gabriel’s shoulders, propping him up just enough that Gabriel could look down the length of his body.

Gabriel’s breathing stuttered and his hands clenched and unclenched on his thighs. “Oh God,” he whispered, and then his head fell back and his body went limp in Sam’s arms.

“Gabriel?” Sam shook him a little and Gabriel’s head lolled against Sam’s shoulder. He was out cold.

Sam laid him back on the seat and shut the door, running back around to the driver’s side and sliding in.  He had to get Gabriel back to camp, back to the doctor who could actually help him.

He threw the truck into gear, bracing Gabriel on the seat, and drove as quickly as he dared, keeping his lights off and letting the moonlight guide him as it slanted through the thick trees.

It was another hour before he was pulling up outside the hidden gate to the compound. An owl hooted when Sam climbed out of the cab and he sagged with relief as his brother swung out of the tree above him and landed neatly on the ground.

“You’re covered in blood, Sam, are you hurt?” Dean demanded, grabbing Sam’s shoulders and inspecting him thoroughly.

“I’m fine,” Sam said, realizing with a shock just how tired he was. “It’s not… not my blood.”

“Whose is it?” Dean asked.  “What the hell happened?”

Sam pointed wordlessly at the truck and Dean took a step away to peer inside. He swung back around, shock stretching his eyes, and hauled Sam onto his tiptoes by his lapels.

“Are you fucking _insane_?” he hissed. “You brought a _soldier_ here?”

“I didn’t have anywhere else to take him!” Sam protested, shoving Dean’s hands away. “He was going to _die,_ Dean, what was I supposed to do?”

“You should have left him!” Dean shouted.  “One less soldier for us to fight later, you _idiot_!”

Sam jerked back.  “No, Gabriel’s not like that,” he said. 

“Oh, ‘Gabriel’, is it?” Dean said.  “Is that how it is? Did you fuck him, Sam? Is that why you saved him instead of letting him die?”

Sam balled his fists and took a step away.  “Don’t you dare,” he hissed.  “Don’t you fucking _dare,_ Dean.”

Dean’s expression softened a little.  “Sam, we both know what Michael’s going to say.  He’s going to execute him.  You can’t save this guy. You’d be doing him a favor by putting a bullet in him yourself.”

“ _No,_ ” Sam snarled. “I won’t let him. Maybe… maybe Gabriel knows something that can help us.  Maybe he can be of use!”

“Fine,” Dean said, throwing his hands in the air.  “ _You_ tell Michael that. But be prepared for him to tell you no, man, that’s all I’m saying.”

Sam just nodded and climbed back in the truck as Dean swung the gate wide. He drove through and Gabriel stirred, eyes still shut.  Sam stopped the truck on the other side of the gate, put a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder and spoke rapidly. 

“Keep your eyes closed and nod if you can hear me,” he said.

Gabriel’s mouth tightened and he gave a short, sharp jerk of his head.

“I’m going to blindfold you,” Sam said.  “No matter what you hear, don’t react, okay?  You’re unconscious, passed out from pain, and that’s the only way you’re going to get through this alive.”

Gabriel’s mouth tightened further but he just nodded again.  Sam yanked his shirt off over his head, grimacing. It was covered in blood and he’d have had to burn it in any case.  He pulled out his knife and cut a long ragged square, binding it quickly around Gabriel’s eyes while Dean watched through the window.  

Sam shot his brother a challenging glare and Dean held up his hands, miming his mouth zipping closed.  He swung into the bed of the pickup as Sam pulled forward and Sam negotiated the potholes carefully, wincing every time the truck jostled.

Gabriel kept his mouth shut and didn’t make a sound.  Sam parked in front of Michael’s command center, a low cabin with no windows and only one door.  Michael liked a solidly defensible position.

“Don’t move,” Sam said under his breath, squeezing Gabriel’s shoulder.

He jumped out as Dean emerged from the bed of the truck.  “Dean, watch him for me?” Sam asked.

Dean rolled his eyes but leaned against the passenger’s door, folding his arms over his chest.

“Thank you,” Sam said, and ducked into Michael’s cabin.

The man himself looked up from the table full of maps, not a single dark hair out of place, his dark brown eyes serene and gentle.  His lieutenant, Raf, was sitting in a camp chair, reading a newspaper.

Michael smiled at Sam.  “How did it go?” he asked.

“The mission was a success,” Sam said, and Michael smiled wider.

“That’s good, Sam, I knew you could do it.  Are you hurt?  Where’s your shirt?”

Sam looked down and blinked.  “Oh… I’m fine. There was, um… a casualty.”

“Someone got killed?” Michael said, cocking his head.

“He would’ve been if I hadn’t pulled him out,” Sam said.  "I... brought him with me.  He would have died otherwise."

“Civilian?”

Sam shook his head.  “He’s, uh… a soldier.”

Michael’s face tightened.  “You brought a _soldier_ into my camp.” His tone was flat, disbelieving, and Sam flinched.  Raf watched silently, dark eyes thoughtful.

“He guarded the war-room, Michael, he was in a prime position to hear stuff, he could _help_ us.”

“ _You brought a soldier into my camp_.” Michael rounded the table, back stiff, hands balled into fists, and Sam took a step back.  It didn’t matter that Michael was three inches shorter and twenty pounds lighter; Sam had seen what he could do to a man in a bare-knuckle brawl, and he’d sworn then never to make him angry.

Which, apparently, he’d just managed to do.

Michael stopped himself with a visible effort.  “Who saw you?”

“Dean,” Sam said.  “He’s outside.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed.  “Lucky for you your brother’s the best fighter I’ve got,” he growled.  “Or I’d be executing you along with this _soldier_ you’ve brought into our midst.”

“You _can’t_ ,” Sam said, tense and desperate, and Michael punched him, a sharp, vicious jab.  Sam stumbled backward, clutching his face, but made no effort to defend himself.

“Don’t you _ever_ tell me what I can’t do,” Michael said, his voice low and thrumming with anger.  “This is _my_ camp, _I_ make the orders. All you do is obey, and you clearly don’t even do _that_ very well!”

Sam stared at him through his rapidly swelling eye.

Michael took a deep breath.  “You are right in that this man may have information, so we will keep him alive until we’ve found out what he knows.  How badly is he injured?”

“He lost a leg and a lot of blood,” Sam said.  “He’s in really bad shape.”

Michael arched a cool brow.  “Maybe he’ll do us a favor and die on his own,” he said, clearly amused, and Sam clenched his fists. Michael tsked, voice reproving. “Temper, Sam.  Here’s what’s going to happen.  You are going to take care of this man.  You will feed him, you will wash him, you will change his bandages. _You,_ Sam, no one else.  No one else even goes near your cabin.  As far as he knows, he’s alone here except for you and Dean.  He is not to know _anything_ of our camp, and that means that yours is the only face he will see, am I understood?”

Sam nodded, a protest lodging in his throat. 

“What?” Michael said.

“His leg needs treatment,” Sam said.  “I can’t do it, I’m not trained.  But it needs to be cauterized.”

“Then Missouri will show you how and you will do it,” Michael said.

Sam gulped. “I _can’t._ ”

“The alternative is you take him out into the forest and you shoot him in the head,” Michael said implacably.  “Which will it be?”

Sam snapped his mouth shut, gritting his teeth, and saluted.

“You’re dismissed,” Michael said, turning back to the table. “Send Dean in here when you leave.”

Sam spun on his heel and stalked out.  Dean straightened when he saw him and spat out the toothpick he was chewing. Sam just jerked a thumb toward the cabin and Dean grimaced.  He caught Sam’s chin and turned it to look at his cheek, and Sam pulled away.

“Less than I deserve,” he snapped, and climbed back in the truck.

He drove to the outskirts of the camp and parked, resting his forehead against the wheel for a minute.  He’d chosen the farthest flung cabin, valuing his privacy, and he was even gladder of that now, what with having to keep Gabriel out of sight, but it also meant that he had a hike of several minutes through the woods before he even got to his cabin. Carrying Gabriel.

Sam took a deep breath and got out, opening the passenger side door. Gabriel didn’t move when Sam touched his good leg. 

“It’s safe for now,” Sam said, “but keep the blindfold on.  I’m going to have to carry you a little way.”

Gabriel’s jaw firmed and he nodded silently.  Sam gathered him up as carefully as possible but Gabriel was strung tight with barely suppressed agony by the time Sam had him cradled in his arms.

Sam was chanting under his breath, he realized to his surprise.  “I’m sorry I’m so sorry Gabe I’m so sorry just hold on,” over and over.  He hefted his armload and began to walk, knowing that every footfall was jarring right through Gabriel’s body and wanting to weep at all the pain he was still causing.

Halfway there Gabriel went limp again, head falling back, and Sam heaved a sigh of relief and walked faster, dodging the occasional branch that reached out to slap him on the way past.

He staggered up the steps and fumbled for the doorknob one-handed, letting it swing shut behind him.  Jedi startled upright with a yip, then launched herself forward to greet him, tail wagging wildly.

“Down, girl,” Sam murmured as he maneuvered his way into the bedroom. The German shepherd followed him inside and watched as Sam laid Gabriel down on the bed.  Gabriel’s hand fell limply over the edge and Jedi sniffed it curiously before giving it a quick swipe of her tongue.

Sam stared at the unconscious man for a minute and then made up his mind. He had to get Missouri, but he hated to leave Gabriel alone.  “Jedi, up,” he said, and the big dog jumped onto the bed, curling against Gabriel’s side. “Stay,” Sam said. “I’ll be right back.”

Someone knocked on the door before he could get there, though.  Sam opened it to see Dean and Missouri standing on the other side.

“Oh, thank God,” he said, sagging in relief.

Missouri smacked him on the back of the head as she stepped inside, holding her medicine bag.  “Don’t blaspheme, boy,” she said.  “Bedroom?”

Sam nodded and trailed after her.  “Mi- our fearless leader said you weren’t supposed to even see him, Missouri.”

“Our fearless leader can sit and spin if he thinks I’m not going to help you as much as I can and get that filthy animal _off_ the bed!” Missouri snapped, pointing at Jedi, who flattened her ears and whined.

Sam snapped his fingers and the dog jumped off the mattress, giving Missouri a wide berth and wagging her tail at Dean, who crouched to greet her.

Missouri settled herself beside the bed and pulled Gabriel’s blindfold off. He blinked up at her, dazed, and Missouri smiled at him.

“Hi honey,” she said gently.  “I’m Missouri, and I’m going to take a look at you, all right?”

Gabriel nodded silently and Sam sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall and wrapping his arms around Jedi as the dog whined and licked his face.

He watched Missouri work without comment, listening to the low conversation she was having with Gabriel but not trying to understand the words. He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until Missouri was shaking him awake.

“Gonna need you and Dean to hold him down now, Sam,” she said, and there was a world of sympathy in her eyes.  “I’ve got everything ready to cauterize the leg but I need your muscles.”

Sam gulped and levered himself to his feet.  Gabriel was still flat on his back, his eyes apprehensive. 

“Get on the bed on that side, Sam,” Missouri instructed.  “Hold his shoulder down.  Dean, you stay here, keep this side down.  I’ll be right back.”

Sam climbed over Gabriel’s still form as carefully as he could and knelt next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder.  Dean shuffled into position on Gabriel’s other side.

“We haven’t met,” he said.  “I’m Sam’s brother. Sorry about, um… this.”

The smell of hot iron filled the room as Missouri came in holding a cauterizing rod.

“Keep him still,” she said, and both men pressed Gabriel into the mattress as without further ceremony, Missouri applied the white-hot end to Gabriel’s bare stump.

Gabriel arched up against their hands with a strangled scream, his eyes wild, and Sam choked on a sob as he held him down.  _Sorry so sorry Gabe so sorry…_ Gabriel flailed desperately and latched on to Sam’s arm, gripping him and digging his fingers in with all his strength.

“Almost done,” Missouri said over the sickening sizzle of frying flesh. “Have to reheat the rod.” She disappeared and Gabriel’s sobs tapered into quiet moans.  Sam willed back his own tears and rested his forehead on the pillow, his cheek brushing Gabriel’s. It smelled like burned pork in the room and Sam thought he was going to throw up.

All too soon Missouri was back.  “Just a little more,” she said, and then Gabriel was screaming again and Sam wanted to die, wanted to run and never have to look again at the beautiful man he’d ruined, wanted to disappear forever and all he could do was weep as Gabriel thrashed and Sam held him down.

An eternity later, Missouri was done, straightening with a sigh.  “Sam, get over here,” she said.  “I want to show you how to change his bandages.” Her face softened when Sam lifted his head, tears still on his cheeks.  “Oh, honey.”  She took Sam’s hand. “This is war, kiddo. Bad things happen in war. Don’t blame yourself.”

Sam shook his head.  “Just show me what to do,” he said, and his voice sounded numb even to his own ears.

Missouri talked him through applying fresh bandages and warned him to change them twice a day.  “Make sure you sterilize and wash the old ones,” she said.  “We don’t need an infection setting in here.”

“Do you have painkillers?” Sam asked.

Missouri grimaced.  “Mi- he said he shouldn’t have any.  Said he doesn’t deserve them, to save them for our own soldiers.  But here.”  She handed over a small bottle.  “I was only able to filch about twenty, so keep them sparse.”

“Thank you,” Sam said, and couldn’t stop himself from hugging her. “Thank you for everything, Missouri. You’re a peach.”

“Go on with you,” Missouri laughed.  “Dean, help me clean up this mess so you can drive me back to my cabin.”

Dean hurried to obey and Sam sat down next to Gabriel, who was as still as death on the bed. Missouri had cleaned the gash on his forehead but there were streaks of blood on his face and all over his bare chest. Sam stood up, swaying a little, and headed for the kitchen and clean water.  He brought it and a glass of water into the bedroom and eased himself onto the mattress, pulling out a sterile bandage.

“Here,” he murmured.  “Sit up and you can take a pill.”

Gabriel opened his mouth and Sam put the pill inside, propping Gabriel up enough that he could take a swig of water.

Dean patted Sam’s shoulder as they left but Sam didn’t look up.  He worked in silence, cleaning every part of Gabriel’s skin that he could reach as Gabriel watched him without speaking.

“What happened to your eye?” Gabriel asked after awhile.

Sam glanced up at him, startled.  “Oh, um… Mi- shit. My leader wasn’t happy with me for bringing you back there.”

“He hit you?”

Sam shrugged. “I deserved it.”

“For saving my life?  That’s bullshit.”

Sam blinked. “I saved you because I put you in danger in the first place, and you hate me, remember?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Gabriel said.  “But you also put yourself at risk to save me.  He shouldn’t have hit you.”  He took a deep breath. 

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked.

“A little better,” Gabriel admitted.  “Drugs are kicking in.”  His eyes were drooping.

“Get some sleep,” Sam said softly.  He pulled the blanket up over Gabriel’s shoulders, avoiding his stump, and then sat down again on the floor, resting his back against the bedframe.  He could hear Gabriel’s soft breathing behind him as Jedi belly-crawled forward and dropped her head into Sam’s lap.

“Gorgeous dog,” Gabriel whispered.

Sam smiled down at Jedi’s brown and black head.  “Thanks,” he said.  “I took her off a trader that was passing through three years ago.  She was just a tiny puppy, all skin and bones.  Dean was making a deal with the guy and the dude was pissed off at the terms, I guess, figured he wasn’t making enough profit on it. I saw him kick Jedi when Dean turned his back.”

“How badly did you hurt him?” Gabriel asked.

“I might have broken his nose and a few of his ribs,” Sam admitted. “He ended up deciding it was in his best interests to move on and not trade with us after all, and he left me Jedi as a ‘gesture of goodwill’.”

A soft snore from the bed made him smile. “Sleep well,” he murmured.


	3. Chapter 3

Gabriel woke up to pain, all consuming.  His breathing hitched and he clawed at the bed, tendons straining in his neck as his nerves screamed at him.

After a few minutes, he gradually became aware of a huge hand on his shoulder, Sam anxiously leaning into his space and talking urgently.

“Gabe, come on, I’ve got another pill here, you need to take it.” He held the pill out and Gabriel took it with trembling fingers, swallowing it dry.

“You need to drink something,” Sam said.  “You’re going to get dehydrated.”

“I don’t care,” Gabriel managed to say, and closed his eyes.

“Please?” Sam said quietly.

Gabriel opened his eyes and Sam was just sitting there, looking at him, but the level of depth and honest concern in those green eyes made Gabriel suddenly, spittingly angry.  He grabbed the glass and flung it against the wall, shattering it.  Water went everywhere and Sam flinched.

“Get out,” Gabriel hissed.  “Just _get out_!”

Sam backed away, hurt written all over his face, but he kept his mouth shut, closing the door quietly behind him.

Gabriel fell back against the pillows, covering his face.  He wanted to cry, to scream and throw more breakable things, but all he did was lie there, raging silently.

An hour later, he was regretting chasing Sam away.  Sam hadn’t come back in the room, and Gabriel needed to pee desperately. And yet, he couldn’t quite open his mouth and call Sam back. 

His dilemma was solved when Sam knocked on the door and put his head in. There was nothing but friendliness in his smile and Gabriel propped himself on his elbows as the smell of chicken soup wafted into the room.

Gabriel’s stomach growled embarrassingly loudly and Sam’s smile widened.

“I thought that might be the case,” he said, setting a tray on the table next to the bed. “Here, lean up a bit and I’ll get your pillows rearranged.”

“Um, I actually…” Gabriel trailed off, hideously embarrassed. 

Sam straightened, watching him and waiting.

“I really have to pee,” Gabriel said in a rush.  His face was going to burn up. 

“Oh,” Sam said.  “Um. Yeah.  Okay.”  He turned in a circle and then held up a finger.  “Just a sec.”  He dashed out of the room and was back in under a minute, holding a plastic bucket.

Gabriel stared at it in disbelief.  “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Sam hunched his shoulders.  “It’s that or I carry you to the bathroom.  Which do you prefer?”

Gabriel glared at him and began to push himself to a sitting position. Sam hurried to help him and together they got Gabriel balanced on the side of the bed.

“I’ll just… I’ll be outside,” Sam said.  He was blushing as hard as Gabriel and he tripped over Jedi as he bolted from the room.

Gabriel steadied himself on the bed as he unzipped his uniform pants, now hanging in shredded tatters on his hips.  And then he realized that even sitting on the edge of the bed, he wasn’t going to be able to balance, support his own weight _and_ urinate at the same time, and he snarled in frustration and sent the bucket flying.

Sam burst into the room, face worried.  “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I can’t do it!” Gabriel shouted at him.  “I can’t even take a fucking piss on my own, okay!  Are you happy now?”

“Not even a little bit,” Sam said quietly.  “What do you need me to do?”

Gabriel slumped, bracing himself on his good wrist.  “I need… I need you to hold me up while I go,” he finally said.

Sam just nodded and picked up the bucket, setting it on the floor next to Gabriel’s left foot.  “I’m going to help you stand,” he said, his voice calm.  “And then I’m going to take your pants off.”

“I don’t need them all the way off,” Gabriel said, alarmed.

“They’re filthy,” Sam said.  “I’ll get you a pair of my boxers.  They’ll be easier to, uh… navigate, and they’re clean.”

Gabriel sighed and lifted his good arm.  “Fine. Let’s get this dog and pony show on the road.”

Sam pulled Gabriel’s arm over his shoulders and straightened slowly until Gabriel was swaying but upright, balancing precariously on his left leg and breathing in sharp pants.

“Put your hands on my shoulders,” Sam said, moving around in front of him. “I’m going to bend down now but I’ll go slow.  Just hang on.”

Gabriel gripped Sam’s shoulder with his good hand, letting the splinted one hang limp and useless at his side.  True to his word, Sam moved slowly, allowing Gabriel to adjust to his movements. Long fingers made quick work of his pants, sliding them down with infinite care over Gabriel’s stump.

Even so, the fabric brushed the bandage and Gabriel hissed.  Sam’s shoulder tensed under his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. 

“Get on with it,” Gabriel growled, and Sam finished working the pants down, letting them fall in a puddle of fabric around Gabriel’s ankle.  His fingers went to the waistband of Gabriel’s underwear next and then hesitated.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen it before,” Gabriel said, and yeah, maybe his tone was bitter, but could he really be blamed for that?  He thought maybe he was entitled to a little bitterness.

Sam said nothing.  He just hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled them down over Gabriel’s hips. Then he stood up, holding Gabriel’s shoulders and angling his head away to give Gabriel as much privacy as he could.

Gabriel finished as quickly as he could and Sam eased him back to the bedspread and turned to the dresser.  He fished out a pair of soft cotton boxers and helped Gabriel get his leg inside them, pulling them up and over the stump with quick, careful movements. Gabriel wrapped his arm around Sam’s neck, using it to brace himself and lift his hips off the bed so Sam could slide the boxers the rest of the way into place.  He was panting again when Sam was done, pain rocketing through every nerve despite the narcotics swimming heavy in his bloodstream.

“Now, do you think you can sit up enough to eat?” Sam said.

Gabriel closed his eyes.  He was so tired. Why was he so tired?

“Come on,” Sam said, and his voice was gentle.  “I got your pillows ready for you.  You can lean back against them, okay?”

“Too tired to eat,” Gabriel managed to mumble.

“Don’t make me spoon-feed you, man,” Sam said. 

He pushed and pulled until Gabriel was leaning back against the mountain of pillows, his head resting on the wall.  Gabriel’s eyes drooped shut and Sam touched his face.

“Come on, Gabe, please,” he said.  “Just a few bites for me?”

Gabriel groaned a protest but Sam was holding the bowl closer.  Gabriel’s treacherous stomach growled again at the smell and Sam smiled, the bastard, dipping a spoon into the broth.

“If you make airplane noises at me I swear to God I’ll dump the bowl over your head,” Gabriel managed to say, and Sam almost laughed as he slipped the spoon between Gabriel’s lips.

Gabriel’s eyes went wide as flavor burst across his tongue, savory and salty, and he obediently opened his mouth for more when Sam lifted the spoon again.

“I made it myself,” Sam said, sounding shy.  “Is it okay?”

“’S delicious,” Gabriel mumbled.  His eyes still wanted to close on their own and his jaw popped as he yawned.

“Just a few more bites,” Sam said coaxingly, and Gabriel sighed and opened his mouth again.

“Not a baby,” he slurred around the spoon.  “Can… feed myself.”

“You can’t even sit up straight right now,” Sam pointed out.  “If I give you the bowl, you’ll tip it over your own head without meaning to.”

Gabriel scowled at him and accepted another spoonful.

Silence fell, broken by Jedi’s quiet snoring on the floor by Sam’s feet. Finally Sam deemed Gabriel had eaten enough and set the bowl on the table, helping Gabriel slide down in the bed a little. He rearranged the pillows and pulled the blanket up as Gabriel blinked, drifting.

Sam stood up and Gabriel heard the click of Jedi’s nails as she rose to follow him out of the room and Gabriel was suddenly awake again, alone and afraid and….

“Sam….”

The young man stopped and turned back.  “Yeah?”

“Can….” Gabriel swallowed.  “Can Jedi stay?”

Sam smiled at him.  “Of course. You want her on the bed with you?”

“As long as Missouri won’t kill me,” Gabriel said.

“Hey, I won’t tell if you won’t,” Sam said, and gestured at the bed. Jedi leaped onto the mattress and curled up against Gabriel’s left side, between him and the wall. Gabriel rested his hand on her back and sighed as the tension drained from him.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Sam smiled at him and closed the door softly on his way out.

 

Sam brought Gabriel breakfast the next morning and left him alone to eat, taking Jedi out for her morning run.  When he came back, he was carrying bandages and a bowl and Gabriel swallowed hard, pushing himself a little more upright.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said.  “But Missouri said twice a day.  We have to be really careful it doesn’t get infected.”

Gabriel accepted the pill he was offered and Sam sat down on the bed next to him but made no move to touch his leg.

“What are you waiting for?” Gabriel asked, nerves making his voice sharp.

“Figured I’d give the drugs time to work,” Sam said, shrugging.  “No point in making it hurt worse than it has to.”

“Right. You want me healthy for when you torture information out of me,” Gabriel said, and Sam shrank into himself as though he’d been punched in the face again.

“No one’s going to torture you,” he said, but he wouldn’t look Gabriel in the eye.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Gabriel said.  Sam was staring at his hands in his lap.  “The only reason I’m alive is because your leader thinks I can give him good intel on what the government is planning.  Well, I have news for you, _Sam_ ; I don’t know anything.  I don’t know anything and I wouldn’t tell you or anyone else even if I did! So you might as well just kill me now and have done with it, because I am _useless,_ okay?”

Sam’s eyes snapped up to his, sparking with frustration.  “You are not useless and I am _not_ going to kill you,” he hissed.  “I’m glad you’re loyal to the government, it means you care -”

He stopped when Gabriel threw his hands in the air.

“How stupid are you?” Gabriel demanded.  “I’m not ‘loyal’ to the fucking government, I literally couldn’t care less about them. I pull a steady paycheck; I didn’t sign my life and fealty to them!  I don’t know anything because _I don’t care_!”

Sam was staring at him, confusion swimming in the depths of his green eyes. “I don’t understand,” he finally said.

“What’s to understand?” Gabriel asked.  “I’m not on one side or the other.  I may wear the uniform but the government can fuck right off as far as I’m concerned.”

“Does that mean you’d consider joining us?” Sam asked, leaning forward, and Gabriel snorted.

“ _Fuck_ no.  Are you insane?  At least working for the government, I had money and a place to live, crappy as it was. You… you live out in the woods on what, twigs and berries?  And you call it ‘freedom.’ No thank you.”

Sam sat back, disappointment filling that expressive face.  Gabriel set his jaw and glared at him, one raised eyebrow daring him to comment.

Sam didn’t take the bait.  Instead he picked up a sterile bandage and moved down the bed.  Gabriel swallowed hard and gripped the blanket with his good hand as Sam began to unwind the dressing.

Gabriel watched him work, Sam’s dark brown head bent over Gabriel’s leg and those clever hands moving gently, keeping his touches light and quick. Gabriel sucked in a breath when open air hit the end of the stump. 

“Sorry,” Sam murmured, head still bowed as he examined Missouri’s work. “It looks good,” he continued after a minute.  “Healing cleanly.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it looks great,” Gabriel said flatly.  He dropped his head back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling while Sam began to put on the clean bandages, his teeth clenched against the pain.

He was trembling by the time Sam was done, and jumped when Sam touched his good hand.

“I have to wash and boil these,” Sam said, indicating the used bandages. “You should rest.”

Gabriel just closed his eyes without responding, listening as Sam padded quietly out of the room, Jedi on his heels.

He came back with lunch and dinner, and by evening, Gabriel was considering snatching himself bald out of frustration and boredom.

When Sam stood up after Gabriel finished eating his supper, Gabriel made a wordless noise of protest.  Sam stopped halfway out the door.

“What is it?”

Gabriel plucked at the bedcovers.  “I’m… going insane,” he said to his lap.

Sam blinked. “Oh God, I’m sorry,” he said. “Do you want a book? Something to keep your hands busy? I can probably find you a small knife and some wood if you want to whittle.”

Gabriel snorted at that.  “Do I look like I have the patience to whittle?  I’m not crazy about reading but anything’s better than just lying here. Or you could keep me company.” He bit his lip, regretting that last bit.

Sam was staring at him.  “I figured you didn’t want me around,” he said softly.  “I’m not exactly your favorite person.”

Gabriel lifted a shoulder.  “Maybe not, but it’s you or the dog, and Jedi’s conversational skills leave much to be desired.”

Sam bit his lip and then left the room.  Gabriel stared after him, nonplussed, but Sam was back in record time with a small TV tray and a folding chair.  He put the tray across Gabriel’s lap and sat down, setting a deck of cards on the tray.

Gabriel looked at them and back up at Sam, who was waiting expectantly.

“Are you expecting a magic trick?” Gabriel asked.  “Because as much as I’d like to, I can’t actually make my leg reappear out of thin air.”

Sam flinched. “No,” he said, and he leaned forward to pick up the deck.  “We’re playing cards. Do you want to play poker or rummy?”

“I have no idea how to play either,” Gabriel admitted, and Sam’s eyes widened.

“You’re kidding me.  How do you get to be twenty-four years old and not know how to play poker _or_ rummy?”

Gabriel frowned.  “How do you know how old I am?  Pretty sure I never actually told you.”

Sam split the cards in half and began to shuffle.  “You mentioned that you were engaged but you still had a year of freedom. That’d make you about twenty-four, right?”

Gabriel squirmed a little at the mention of his fiancée.  “Yeah, that’s right, but I don’t remember telling you that.”

“You were pretty bombed,” Sam said, smiling at the deck, and then his smile slipped and he looked stricken.  “I didn’t mean, oh God, I’m sorry -” He was white as a sheet, staring at Gabriel as though he’d committed treason.

Gabriel sighed.  “Shut up and shuffle,” he said, and Sam obeyed, shoulders drooping.

Gabriel waited while Sam dealt the cards and then picked them up, peering doubtfully at them.  “Maybe it’s the drugs,” he said, “but I have no idea what I’m doing.”  His head was swimming, the medicine kicking in again.

Sam did his best to explain how to play rummy and Gabriel nodded at intervals, his head drooping more and more.  The third time he jerked awake, Sam wasn’t in the room.  The chair was still by the bed but the tray table had been moved and Gabriel’s blanket was tucked up around his shoulders.

Gabriel turned gingerly onto his side, closing his eyes again.

 

When he woke, the sun was up and Sam was gently pushing the door open, a plate in his hand.

“How are you feeling?” the young man asked.

Gabriel evaluated.  “Shitty,” he said.

Sam picked up the tray and set it on the bed, putting the plate of food on it.

Gabriel grimaced.  “Grits?”

“Nothing wrong with grits,” Sam said mildly, sitting down on the bed. “Missouri said you need soft food for awhile, make it easier for your body to concentrate on healing.”

Gabriel sighed and dug in as Sam deftly unwrapped his leg.  He left the bandages off, the end exposed to the open air, and moved to the folding chair to watch as Gabriel ate.

“Not going to wrap it back up, doc?” Gabriel asked around a mouthful. Not that he’d ever admit it, but Sam was a good cook and the grits were actually delicious.

“Missouri said to let it dry out at least once a day,” Sam said, stretching his long legs in front of him and leaning back in the chair.  “Something about the fresh air helping it heal faster.”

Gabriel hummed noncommittally and took another bite.  Something about Sam’s face was bothering him, and he looked closer. Sam looked… worried, the skin around his eyes tight and his mouth drawn into a taut line.

“What’s the problem?” Gabriel asked.

Sam looked startled but answered readily enough.  “You’re almost out of pills.  By my reckoning, you have enough to last you the rest of the day and tomorrow if we stretch it, but then you’re done and Missouri can’t get us any more. I thought about stealing some but if Michael - dammit.”  He dropped his head into his hands with a groan.  “I can’t keep a secret to save my life.”

“Michael your leader?” Gabriel asked.

Sam nodded, not looking up.

“And what would Michael do if he caught you?”

“Execute me,” Sam said without hesitation. 

Gabriel swallowed hard.  “Let’s avoid execution. So the pills are a no-go. I’ll survive.”

Sam shook his head.  “No. You’ll be in agony. As it is, it’s barely keeping the pain at bay, but at least you can sort of function.  We take the medicine away and you’re going to _wish_ you were dead.  Besides, you need antibiotics.  Missouri only gave me enough for two days and you need at least a week’s worth.”

Gabriel laid his spoon down.  “What’s the point, Sam?”

“The point?”

“The point of keeping me alive,” Gabriel said.  “Is it to make your guilt go away?  To help you sleep better at night?  I’m your _enemy,_ Sam. Help me understand this.”

Sam flinched as if he’d been struck.  “I’m responsible,” he whispered.

“Would it help if I absolve you of blame?” Gabriel said, and made the sign of the cross. “You’re forgiven. There.  Now you can let me die in peace.”

Sam was staring at him, his face white.  “How can you joke about this?” he asked quietly. 

“I’m not joking,” Gabriel said harshly.  “If me forgiving you is what you need so you can let me die, then you can have it.”

“If you forgiving me is the only thing keeping you from dying, then I don’t want you to _ever_ forgive me,” Sam flung back at him, and rubbed his face with shaking hands.  “Jesus, Gabe….”

“Don’t call me that,” Gabriel said.

Sam curled in on himself a little bit more, and how a six foot four tall man could look like a kicked puppy, Gabriel really didn’t know.  Jedi whined and put her head on Sam’s knee, but Sam didn’t move.

Gabriel sighed.  “Look, kid. I appreciate what you’re trying to do. You’ve dealt with one fuck-up after another and you’ve done an amazing job with what you’ve had to work with. But I strongly suspect your leader has plans for me once I’ve recovered enough to be interrogated… aggressively… and I imagine those plans don’t involve tea and crumpets. I’m not a hero. I know I said I wouldn’t tell you if I knew anything, but let’s be real; I’d spill my guts within the first five minutes of torture.”

Sam was shaking his head but Gabriel kept going.

“I’m a coward, okay?  Pain and I do not get along. And I really, really don’t want to find out what Michael has in store for me.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Sam said fiercely.  “But I don’t want to talk about that right now anyway.  That’s at least a week away, if not more. Right now, this minute, you need medicine.  And I’m going to get it for you.”

Gabriel stared at him.  “ _How_?” 

“I’ll go to town and raid the pharmacy,” Sam said, his voice steely.

“You’ll be _killed,_ ” Gabriel said. “You can’t.  I won’t let you.”

Sam gave him a look.  “How exactly are you going to stop me?”

“Sam,” Gabriel pleaded, “think about it.  How is you getting killed going to keep me alive?  Please don’t do this.  Besides, you can’t go back to Lafayette, they’ll be looking for you.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Sam said.  “I’m going north. Two towns up, there’s a central hub. They get a shipment every other day. I hit it today, they’ll be restocked by tomorrow.  No one will suffer, you’ll get the drugs you need, it’s a win/win.”

“ _Please,_ ” Gabriel said, nearly frantic.  “Please don’t do this, Sam.”

Sam began to wrap Gabriel’s leg back up without looking at his face. “It’s the only way,” he said quietly, and Gabriel wanted to throw something.

All too soon, Sam was finished and he stood up and left the room.  He came back with a stack of books and a large hunting knife. Setting the books on the floor next to the bed, he handed the knife to Gabriel, who held it as though he’d been handed a live snake.

“I don’t have an extra handgun or I’d leave it with you,” Sam said.

“Why do I need a weapon anyway?” Gabriel demanded.

“Just… in case,” Sam said vaguely.

“At least take Jedi with you,” Gabriel said a little desperately.

Sam shook his head.  “No, she stays with you.” He turned on his heel and headed for the door.

“ _Sam,_ ” Gabriel said, all but choking on his fear.

Sam glanced at him over his shoulder, his face set with determination. “I’ll be back before sunset,” he said. “Dean will keep an eye on you and he’ll bring you lunch at some point.  Don’t let anyone in.”  He whistled for Jedi, who bounded in and hopped up on the bed, giving Gabriel a welcoming lick to the face.

Gabriel wrapped his good arm around her and watched her master stride out, back straight.

Only when he heard the cabin’s front door slam shut did Gabriel collapse back against his pillows, taking a deep breath.

“He’s going to get himself killed,” he told Jedi. 

 

He fell into an uneasy doze mid-morning, arm still around Jedi.

Dean brought him food at noon and Gabriel perked up, but the taller man wouldn’t talk to him.  Just handed Gabriel a pill and his food and left.  Gabriel sighed and ate silently, handing tasty bits to Jedi, who took them delicately.

Dean came back after he was done.  “Ca- my boyfriend is going hunting.  He asked if he could take Jedi with him.  Okay with you? I’ll stay here instead. I’ve got guns to clean, figured I’d do that in the living room for awhile.”

Gabriel shrugged.  “Not my dog. Do what you want, man.”

He whiled away the afternoon picking through the books Sam had piled beside the bed for him, dozing when the mood struck him, until early evening and he realized he was jumping at every sound, listening for the sound of Sam’s truck.

Still, he only had a few seconds’ warning when the men kicked his door in.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam parked his truck under the trees outside his cabin with a weary sigh. Gathering the duffel with the pills, he slid out of the cab, wincing when he hit the ground.  Every muscle ached.

The silence was the first thing to register.  There were no birds singing, no squirrels chattering.  That was never a good sign, Sam knew, and he hefted the duffel over his shoulder and broke into a jog through the trees.

The door to his cabin was standing wide open.  _Shit._   Sam took the steps onto the porch in one quick leap, his gun out and at the ready as he burst into the living room.

Stillness greeted him.

“Gabe?” Sam called.  “Dean?”

Keeping his back to the wall, Sam moved around the living room towards the bedroom. Its door was also open, this one hanging off one hinge.  Sam put his head around the frame, catching a quick glance before jerking back.

The bed was empty, Gabriel nowhere to be seen, and there was a strange body on the floor. Sam slipped into the room, checking the corners before kneeling next to the prone form.  It wasn’t until he rolled the man over onto his back that he recognized him as Billy, a hunter that had recently joined their forces. Sam didn’t know him very well, but he’d seen him around, mostly hanging out with Kubrick and Creedy, two of the mouthiest rebels in the camp.  Sam tended to avoid them as much as humanly possible.

Billy was dead, blood trickling from his mouth and from the very familiar knife standing up in the middle of his chest.  Sam touched the puddle of blood on the floor; it was still warm, just beginning to get a little tacky.

Sam stood up, shoving his frantic worry for both Gabriel and Dean to the back of his mind and locking it away.  He had a job to do.  He strode out of the cabin and started casting about for footprints.  Whoever took Gabriel wouldn’t be likely to go back to camp itself. Whether this was sanctioned by Michael or not, it was more likely that they’d dragged him into the forest where they could dispose of him quietly, without a mess.

Behind his cabin, Sam found what he was looking for.  Several sets of heavy footprints were embedded in the soft soil, a wavering groove between them. 

Sam’s mouth tightened and he started moving, following the tracks.

It wasn’t long before he was coming on a clearing.  Voices floated through the trees, men arguing at the top of their lungs. Sam crept closer, flattening himself behind a tree to listen.

“-we going to do with Dean?” one asked.  _Creedy,_ Sam thought.

“Shut the fuck up,” someone else snapped.  _Kubrick._

“But he’s a witness,” Creedy whined.  “We can’t let him live!”

Sam tensed.

“If we kill him, Michael will kill _us,_ ” Kubrick snarled.  “Now _shut up_.”

Sam could hear gasping, short harsh breaths that dragged and hitched, and he knew without looking that Gabriel was there, still alive but for how much longer?

Sam began to circle the clearing in slow, careful steps.  Finally he found a vantage point where he could see into the space between the trees.

Gabriel was lying on his side in the middle of the clearing, his arms tied behind his back. His eyes were closed, blood all over his face, and Sam had to throttle back sudden rage.

Dean was lashed to a tree, arms wrenched painfully backwards, a gag in his mouth and his green eyes sparking with fury.  He was struggling against his bonds as Kubrick and Creedy huddled over something on the other side of Gabriel.  Sam couldn’t quite see what it was and he shifted position, debating.

He had no problem killing both men currently arguing loudly with each other, but he didn’t particularly want Michael killing _him,_ either.  Still, he had an excellent case for unprovoked assault, and Dean would back him up.

Sam made up his mind and took a step forward as Kubrick handed a piece of black fabric to Creedy, moving sideways just enough so that Sam could see that he was fiddling with a video camera on a tripod.

“Put that on, the world doesn’t need to see your ugly mug anyway,” Kubrick said.

Creedy pulled the ski mask down over his face, wincing.  “I think the little fucker broke my arm,” he complained. “How’s someone that small get to be that dangerous?”  He knelt beside Gabriel without waiting for a response, dragging him into a sitting position as Kubrick took a few steps back and pushed a button on the camera.

Creedy grabbed Gabriel’s hair, yanking his head back, exposing the long line of his throat and laying a wickedly sharp knife against Gabriel’s jugular as Kubrick began to speak.

“This is a message to the government of the once United States of America. We will not be silenced. We will not be stopped. You attempt to infiltrate our camps, we will kill your spies.  Until you dismantle your system of government and step down from power, this will be the only response you get from us.”  He pointed at Creedy, whose grip tightened on the handle of the knife.

Sam shot him before he could slit Gabriel’s throat.

Creedy went down in a boneless heap, sprawling on top of Gabriel’s helpless form. Sam burst from the trees and shot Kubrick twice in the chest and once in the head before the shorter man could do more than whirl where he stood.

Silence fell, the reports from the gun still ringing in Sam’s ears. He shoved his gun into its holster and roughly pushed Creedy’s limp body off of Gabriel. He picked up the knife from among the pine needles carpeting the ground and cut the ropes on Gabriel’s wrists. Gabriel choked on a sob as Sam helped him to sit up.

“Did they hurt you?” Sam asked.

Gabriel shook his head, dragged in a deep breath and fell forward against Sam’s chest. Sam held him, closing his eyes against the relief washed through him.

Dean cleared his throat loudly and Sam jumped.  He eased Gabriel upright with an apologetic smile and dashed across the clearing. Pulling Dean’s gag off first, he set to work on the ropes holding him to the tree.

Dean spat. “Eugh, I think they soaked that rag in fucking motor oil, I’m going to be tasting that for a _week._ ”

“Are you okay?” Sam asked as the last strand of the rope parted and Dean’s arms came free.

His brother groaned, rubbing his wrists.  “I’m fine.  Pissed as hell. Fuckers got the drop on me.” He sounded outraged, and Sam couldn’t help his smile as he helped him upright.

“Can you walk?  I need to carry Gabriel. And _where’s Jedi_?  They didn’t… Dean, they didn’t kill her, did they?”

“Jedi’s fine,” Dean said hurriedly, clasping his shoulder.  “Cas went out hunting this afternoon.  I sent Jedi with him and stayed with Gabriel myself. Much good as that did him….”

Sam slumped with relief and turned back to Gabriel, who was swaying silently. “I’m going to pick you up,” Sam told him.  “Can you put your arm around my neck and hold on?”

Gabriel nodded and Sam bent down, sliding his arm under Gabriel’s legs and back and straightening in one smooth motion.  Gabriel clung to him, eyes unfocused and dazed.

“Just hang on,” Sam said gently.  “Gonna get you back to the cabin, get you looked at.  Just… hang on, okay?”

Gabriel still hadn’t said a word.  He just laid his head against Sam’s chest and closed his eyes with a quiet sigh, and Sam started walking, thrumming with worry.

Dean crashed through the underbrush behind him, subtle as an elephant, and it was only a few minutes before they were climbing the steps to the cabin and then Sam was stepping over Billy’s body and gently depositing Gabriel in the bed.

Gabriel turned his face into the pillow and Sam took his chin.  “Hey,” he said, “Stay with me, okay?  Don’t fall asleep.  You may have a concussion.  Dean, go get Missouri _right now._ ”

Dean’s footsteps faded and Sam patted Gabriel’s cheek.  Gabriel moaned and opened his eyes to glare at him.

Sam couldn’t help his smile.  “There you are,” he said.

“Didn’t… go anywhere,” Gabriel muttered.  “Just… tired. Don’t need rescuing, either.”

“Yeah, you had it all under control,” Sam said.  “I just can’t ever resist the chance to be a hero.  Next time I’ll hang back and let you handle it.”

Gabriel turned his face into Sam’s hand, which was still somehow cupping his cheek. Sam brushed his thumb over Gabriel’s cheekbone.

“I thought you were dead,” he whispered.

“Thought I was too,” Gabriel admitted.  “Realized something.”

“Yeah?” Sam said.  “What’s that?”

“Don’t… hate you,” Gabriel murmured, his eyes drooping closed again. “Want to hate you. _Should_ hate you.  Don’t.”

Sam knew it was the shock and pain that had brought Gabriel’s defensive walls down, that he’d never tell him this if he wasn’t shaken to his very core, but Sam didn’t care.  He swallowed hard.

“I don’t hate you either,” Sam whispered as Missouri burst through the door.

“Oh sweet Lord, what did they do to you?” she asked, and Sam dropped his hand and moved out of the way, joining Dean in the door.

Dean was looking dazed, his eyes a little unfocused, and Sam helped him to the chair.

“How are you feeling, bro?”

Dean shrugged.  “’M okay. Better than your guy over there. I’m sorry, Sam. I was off-guard, not paying close enough attention, and…”

“Hey,” Sam interrupted.  “It’s sheer random chance that it was you here and not me.  No one’s blaming you.”

“ _I’m_ blaming him,” Gabriel slurred from the bed, and Sam grinned.

“Most of us aren’t blaming you,” he amended.

“Sam, get that body out of here,” Missouri commanded, not looking up.

Sam hurried to obey.  He was dragging Billy’s body off the porch when he heard footsteps and whirled, hand going to his gun.

Castiel’s hands went up, a brace of rabbits over his shoulder.  “It’s me, Sam, what’s… is that _Billy?_ What happened?”

Sam relaxed as Jedi bounded forward, greeting him joyfully and inspecting the body. “They decided to go after Gabe while I was gone,” he said.

“ _Dean.”_ Castiel bolted inside the house.  Sam followed more slowly, finding Castiel kneeling in front of Dean’s chair, checking him all over as Dean protested.

“Dude, I’m _fine,_ ” Dean complained. “Just got a knock on the head.”

“You were injured and I wasn’t here,” Castiel growled.  “Where are Kubrick and Creedy?  I need to… _speak_ to them.”

“You’re a little late on that score,” Dean said, and pulled Castiel into a quick kiss. “Sam already ‘spoke’ to them for you.”

Castiel’s dark blue eyes went to Sam, who nodded.  Castiel relaxed a little.

“Good,” he said flatly.  “Let’s get you home, Dean.”

Dean protested as Castiel tried to pull him to his feet.  “I’m not leaving, man.  Someone else could be planning on trying the same shit.  No way am I leaving Sam alone to deal with that.”

“I’d like to point out… that I broke the skinny one’s arm and _killed_ one of the… others,” Gabriel gasped from the bed.

“No one’s doubting your badass status,” Sam said, a smile tugging at his mouth. “But Dean’s right. I’d feel better with backup here.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Dean said, and Castiel’s mouth firmed.

“Fine,” he said abruptly.  “Let’s go.”

“What, _now_?” Dean asked, startled.

“You need to rest,” Castiel said.  “You are _going_ to rest.”

Dean sighed and allowed Castiel to help him to his feet and out of the room.

Sam pulled the chair close to the head of the bed and sat down, watching as Missouri rewrapped bandages.

“How is he?” he asked quietly.

“Better than I expected,” Missouri said.  “I think I’m going to have to reset the bone in his arm and I need sterile bandages so I can clean the cut on his head, but he’s doing alright. We need to make sure the wounds stay clean, though; an infection could spell real trouble.  His body’s weakened enough that a fever could seriously damage him.”

Gabriel’s eyes were closed and Sam pushed down the urge to touch him, reassure himself that Gabriel was there and alive and healing, not bleeding out on the forest floor.

“He’s going to be okay,” Missouri said gently.  Her eyes were kind, and Sam swallowed against the lump in his throat.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Did you get the drugs I told you he needed?”

Sam nodded. “I dropped the bag… hang on.” He headed for the porch and scooped up the duffel, bringing it into the bedroom.

Missouri opened it and made happy noises.  “This is good, sweetheart, very good.  Anything you don’t use, can I have for the infirmary?”

“Of course,” Sam said instantly.  “Just tell me what to give Gabriel.”

Missouri laid out the bottles, explaining the schedules and dosages Gabriel would need as Sam listened carefully.

Finally she stood up, scooping the soiled bandages into the clean bucket by the end of the bed.  “I’ll set Castiel to washing this stuff,” she said with a wink.  “You stay with our boy.”

Sam nodded and sat down again, watching Gabriel’s face.

“Stop staring,” the slender man mumbled, eyes still closed.  “’S creepy.”

Sam smiled in spite of himself.  “Try and stop me,” he said.

Gabriel sighed and shifted on the bed, turning to face him.  “How’d the drug raid go, then?”

“It went fine,” Sam said.  “As evidenced by the fact that I’m here and not riddled with holes and dying in a back alley.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” Gabriel murmured.

“Go to sleep,” Sam said gently.  “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Mkay,” Gabriel slurred.  He reached out with his good hand, groping until Sam lifted his own hand and put it in his. “Thank you… Sammy.”

 

Sam waited until Gabriel was asleep before he went to find Michael. Castiel looked up at him as Sam crossed the living room.  Dean was asleep, his hand in Castiel’s, eyes moving under his lids.

Sam grimaced. “Cas… I’m sorry, but I need Dean. Can you stay with Gabriel?”

Castiel nodded and gently shook Dean’s shoulder.  “Wake up, love,” he murmured.  “Your brother is going to talk to Michael.”

Dean jerked awake with a startled snort.  “Hm, what? Oh.”  He rubbed his eyes and sat up, yawning.  He smiled at Castiel and pulled him into a kiss and Sam turned his back to give them some privacy.  When the noises started getting a little too graphic, Sam cleared his throat loudly.

“Killjoy,” Dean muttered, standing up.  “Hold down the fort, Cas.  Gotta go save baby brother’s ass.”

 

To say Michael was not pleased would be putting it mildly. 

“ _What_ happened?”

Sam took a deep breath and recounted his story for the second time. Michael listened with narrowed eyes as Raf watched from behind the maps table.

“And how exactly did they even _know_ about the soldier?” Michael asked.  “I haven’t said anything, and while I do wonder about your brains sometimes, I’m fairly sure you’re not stupid enough to let anything slip either.”

Dean scowled but Sam just shrugged.  “Maybe they saw me bringing him into camp.  Maybe they overheard me talking to Missouri and getting information on how to treat him.  It’s not like I snuck into camp in the dead of night, Michael.  Anyone could’ve seen me.”

“Where are their bodies?” Michael asked, lips tight.

“Kubrick and Creedy are still in the woods.  Billy’s in front of my cabin.”

“Dean, you corroborate your brother’s story?”

Dean nodded. “They jumped me when my back was turned. I had no warning at all. Sam did what he had to do.”

Michael’s jaw clenched.  “I’ll send Raf out to get them,” he said.  “I did not sanction this, Sam.”

“I know you didn’t,” Sam said, startled.  “You told me to heal him, not kill him.  It never occurred to me that you were behind this.”

Michael nodded.  “Still, you killed three of my soldiers.  That cannot be allowed to stand.  Three days without rations, one for each of the lives you took.”

Dean’s mouth fell open and he stepped forward, but Sam caught his arm and pulled him back.

“How is he, anyway?” Michael asked.  “Is he well enough to question yet?”

Sam fought back a surge of panic and shook his head.  “He’s… not doing well.  He was better but Kubrick re-damaged his arm and he’s lost a lot more blood. If we’re not very careful, he’s going to get an infection.  As it is, he’s struggling badly.”

Michael turned away.  “You have two weeks to get him as healthy as possible,” he said over his shoulder. “At the end of that time, I will be speaking to him regardless of his health, and if he is not able to divulge any useful information, I will take care of matters myself. Am I understood?”

Sam saluted.

“Dismissed,” Michael said without looking up.

 

Dean was seething as they left the cabin.  “That son of a bitch, who does he think he is, cutting off your food?”

“It’ll be fine, Dean,” Sam said wearily.  “I’ll… go hunting.  It’s not a big deal.”

“No, you have to take care of Gabriel,” Dean said.  “Cas and I will go hunting, you’ll stay home and play housewife.”

Sam narrowed his eyes but was too tired to come up with a retort. “Thank you,” he said instead.

They climbed the steps to the cabin and Sam stopped in the middle of the living room, swaying on his feet.

“You need sleep,” Dean declared.

“I’ll make a pallet in my room,” Sam muttered, and headed that direction. Gabriel was asleep when Sam stepped inside and he stirred, blinking in the dim half-light from the window.

“Sam?”

“Sorry,” Sam whispered.  “Gonna bed down in here on the floor if that’s okay with you.  Dean and Cas are sharing the couch.”

Gabriel watched as Sam pulled a blanket from his closet and then sighed. “This is stupid. Sleep on the bed with me.”

Sam froze in the middle of spreading the fabric on the floor.  “You… what?”

“Bed’s big enough for two, barely,” Gabriel said.  “As long as you don’t roll over in your sleep and push me off onto the floor, I think we can manage.”

Sam stared at him for a long moment.  His brain was too fuzzy to function properly and it had shorted out at the thought of crawling between cool sheets and having an actual mattress under him.

“Take your shoes off and get over here,” Gabriel said.

Sam obeyed dumbly, shedding his outer layers as well, until he was standing in the middle of the room in his t-shirt, boxers and socks, rubbing his pebbled arms.

Gabriel clearly sensed his hesitation and held out a hand.  “Come on, you giant ape.  Get in here.”

Sam sighed and clambered onto the mattress, collapsing against the pillows with a heartfelt groan. 

“Feel good?” Gabriel asked, a smile in his voice.

Sam just hummed as Gabriel pulled the blanket over both of them.

“Sleep,” Gabriel said.  “Tomorrow you can tell me all about your daring heist.”

Sam closed his eyes, soaking up the warmth of Gabriel’s body next to him, and let the darkness pull him under.

 

He woke in the morning with an arm draped across Gabriel’s waist, his nose buried in Gabriel’s shoulder.

Sam froze and Gabriel stretched, yawning.

“Morning,” he murmured.  “Sleep well?”

Sam mumbled something and tried to roll away but Gabriel caught his wrist in his good hand.

“What happened here?” he asked, looking at the five small, purpling bruises on Sam’s forearm.

Sam pulled and Gabriel let go, but the look on his face said Sam wasn’t getting out of answering the question.

Sam sighed. “It, um… was you.”

“ _Me_?” Gabriel said, brows slamming together.  “When did I do that?”

“When Missouri was… cauterizing your leg,” Sam whispered.  “You were holding onto my arm while she was doing it.” He couldn’t look Gabriel in the eye.

Gabriel was silent for a long moment and then he reached down and caught hold of Sam’s arm again, bringing it up across his chest.  He waited until Sam looked up at him and then, holding Sam’s gaze, he planted a kiss on the first bruise.

Sam’s breath caught.  Gabriel was still staring at him almost challengingly as he moved on to the second bruise and kissed that one too.  The third and then the fourth, and Gabriel’s eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his lips against the fifth bruise.

Sam couldn’t breathe.  All the oxygen had been sucked from the room and he was getting dizzy from lack of air but he didn’t care because Gabriel was touching him, was _kissing his skin_ , and it felt like absolution, it felt like forgiveness, and suddenly Sam was weeping.

“I’m sorry, Gabriel,” he choked out.  _“I’m so, so sorry_.”

There were tears standing bright in Gabriel’s whiskey eyes.  “I know, Sam,” he whispered.  “I know.  It’s okay. I forgive you. Okay?  _I forgive you_.” He rolled onto his side and pulled Sam into his arms and Sam wept into his chest as the weight lifted from his shoulders and Gabriel held him.

Slowly the storm of tears subsided but Sam found he had no great desire to move. He was warm and comfortable, cradled in Gabriel’s arms, and he felt better than he had in months, if not years.

They were still lying there when Dean knocked and entered without waiting for a reply.

“Breakfast!” he said brightly.  “Oh, _shit._ ”  He backed out as quickly as he’d come in and Sam started laughing and couldn’t stop.

Gabriel’s chest was shaking against his forehead and the pair of them giggled until tears were streaming down their faces.

When Sam finally lifted his head, Gabriel smiled down at him.  “Feeling any better, kiddo?”

Sam got to his knees on the mattress and stretched.  “God, yes.  Do you want to take your medicine before or after you pee?”

“After,” Gabriel said.  “I’m about to burst.”

“At least I wasn’t lying on your bladder,” Sam said, and they grinned at each other for a minute.

Sam helped him up and this time there was no hesitation in his movements as he pulled Gabriel’s boxers down and scooted the bucket into place.

When Gabriel was done, Sam knelt and pulled his underwear back up, but when he tried to settle him back in the bed, Gabriel stopped him.

“Can I just….” He slid his arms around Sam’s waist and rested his head on his chest, and in turn, Sam wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s shoulders and held him close.

They stood like that for about a minute before Gabriel began to tremble.

“Okay, you’ve had enough,” Sam said, and eased him back to the mattress.

Gabriel sank into his pillows with a regretful sigh and Sam smiled at him, picking up the bucket.

“I’ll go empty this and bring you some food,” he said.

“Just make sure there’s some washing of hands in there too,” Gabriel said.

Sam wrinkled his nose at him.  “Speaking of, you’re getting a sponge bath today.  I didn’t want to hurt your delicate feelings, but you reek.”

“As long as you’re the one doing the sponging, Sammy,” Gabriel said serenely.

Sam snorted and escaped out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Gabriel took his pills and then ate breakfast while Sam sat in the chair, shuffling the cards on his knee, and told him about getting the drugs.

“It was easy, really,” Sam said, shrugging.  “Disturbance one street over, everyone turned out to see what was going on, I slipped in and took what I needed.”

“You’re a regular ninja,” Gabriel said.  “No one saw you?”

Sam shook his head and cut the cards.  “I’m quick and quiet when I need to be.  No one saw me.”

“Good,” Gabriel said, scraping the bottom of his bowl.  “Got any more of this?  I’m hungry today, apparently.”

A shadow flickered across Sam’s face.  “That’s, um… it, for now.  Sorry.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.  “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing,” Sam said.

“No, that’s what you _are_ telling me,” Gabriel pointed out.  “Spill it. Now.”

Sam sighed. “Michael cut off my rations because I killed Creedy and Kubrick.  I have to be really careful with what’s in my pantry, especially since I’m feeding you _and_ Jedi.”

Gabriel laid his spoon down.  “Wait, you’re saying he’s _punishing_ you? This wasn’t your fault, Sam! This isn’t fair!”

“It may not be fair,” Sam said, “but I understand why he did it. He didn’t order the hit, so he’s not going to punish me for defending you and myself.  But at the same time, he can’t condone violence against another camp member.  I expected worse, to be honest.”

He smiled at the look on Gabriel’s face.  “It’ll be fine,” he said.  “Cas and Dean are going hunting.  They’ll bring us meat. I have grits and rice in the pantry, and flour; I can make biscuits and a few other things. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“You’re being punished because of me,” Gabriel said.  “I can’t _not_ worry.”

Sam stood up and set the cards on the bedside table.  “We can talk about it later.  If you’re done eating, it’s time for a bath and a clean dressing on your leg.”

“That sounds like fun,” Gabriel muttered.

“Don’t sulk,” Sam said, a smile playing on his lips.

Gabriel shot him a glare but said nothing, shoving the bowl in Sam’s direction.

 

Sam got up and took the tray of dishes back out to the kitchen, returning with a bucket of clean water and an actual sponge.

Gabriel pushed himself upright with a grimace, putting his foot on the floor and gripping the edge of the mattress to keep himself vertical.

“You don’t have to sit up,” Sam said, dipping the sponge in the bucket. “I can do this with you lying down.”

“Easier this way,” Gabriel pointed out, and Sam shrugged.

“You’re probably right.” He knelt in front of the bed and gently tugged Gabriel’s shirt off over his head.  Then he sucked in a breath and Gabriel blinked, looking down at his chest in mild surprise.

“No wonder it feels like I’ve been trampled by a herd of horses,” Gabriel said. He was covered in a map of welts and contusions so heavy that there was almost no healthy skin to be seen. Missouri had bandaged the injuries that had broken the skin, and judging by the mottled yellowy-green of the fading bruises, he was healing fairly well, Gabriel decided.

Sam took a shaky breath and Gabriel looked up.

“Oh hey, no,” he said, catching Sam’s chin and making him lift his gaze. There were tears standing bright in Sam’s green eyes.  “None of that, Sam, I mean it.  We’ve been over this.”

Sam’s mouth quivered and Gabriel was startled at the sudden desperate urge to wipe the misery off the younger man’s face.  He cast about in his head for something to say to break the mood.

“So, are you actually engaged?” he asked.

Sam’s mouth fell open for a minute and Gabriel gestured at the bucket.

“Multitask, kiddo,” he said lightly.  “I’m not sure how much longer I can stay vertical.”

Sam closed his mouth and nodded.  “Right, sorry.” He dipped the sponge in the water and squeezed out the excess, setting to work.

Gabriel moved where Sam needed him to, lifting one arm and then the other. He almost flinched at the cool water but kept silent.  Sam was already visibly distressed.  Gabriel would keep quiet if it killed him rather than upset Sam further.

“So,” he prompted as Sam sponged.  “Fiancée?”

“Um,” Sam said eloquently.  “No. No fiancée.  That was just a cover.”

“Lucky you,” Gabriel said, sighing and straightening a little so Sam could work on his ribs.

“What about yours?” Sam asked.

“Well, she exists, more’s the pity,” Gabriel said.

Sam snorted. “Poor girl.  What does she think of you?”

“No flipping clue,” Gabriel said, shrugging.

“You haven’t even _met_ her yet?” Sam demanded. “How long have you been engaged?”

Gabriel squirmed.  “Um… a year?”

Sam stared at him. “The _hell,_ Gabe?  Shit, I’m sorry, _Gabriel_.  But how could you have been engaged for a year and not even met the girl yet?”

“Look, she’s not any happier about the arrangement than I am, okay?” Gabriel said, and hesitated.  “And… you can call me Gabe if you want,” he said.   He shivered and rubbed the gooseflesh rising on his arms.  The weather was cooling and he was close to shivering.

Sam was staring at him and Gabriel shrugged, suddenly eager to change the subject. “Getting cold here, Sam.”

“Right,” Sam said hastily.

He finished Gabriel’s torso and turned and rummaged in his dresser, coming up with a worn t-shirt.

Gabriel stared at it for a minute.  “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror, dude?” he finally asked. His left arm was beginning to tremble from propping him upright.  “I’m going to _swim_ in that.”

Sam smiled at him and Gabriel sighed.  There was something about the way Sam’s lips quirked and his eyes lit up that made Gabriel a little weak at the knees – well, _knee,_ he amended silently.

“It’s old,” Sam said.  “From when I was a teenager.”

“Okay, that makes it worse,” Gabriel said.  “Way to attack my manly pride, giving me a t-shirt you wore as a _kid_.”

“Oh come on,” Sam protested, “it’s not that bad!  I was fifteen, at least!”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed and then he realized that Sam’s eyes were dancing and Gabriel couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up.  “Give it here then, you brat,” he said.

Instead, Sam stepped close and helped him slip it on over his head, easing it over Gabriel’s injured arm in its brace.

“Lie back now,” Sam said, his voice a gentle caress, and Gabriel shivered again. This time it had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

He gingerly tugged the soft material down over his waist and relaxed backward against the pillows.

Sam picked up the bucket.  “I’m going to dump this and get fresh, and we’ll do your lower half,” he said.

Gabriel watched him leave the room and bit back a groan.  Even with the constant pain, he was finding it very difficult not letting Sam see how attractive Gabriel found him. Damn that floppy brown hair and those earnest green eyes, anyway, to say nothing of the _dimples._

Gabriel sighed and closed his eyes.  The drugs were beginning to take effect, making his thoughts hazy and a little indistinct, jumping and overlapping.

He let his mind drift and was only dimly aware of the door opening and closing quietly.

Sam’s voice reached him distantly and Gabriel murmured something, turning on his side. Sam laughed quietly.

“Come on, man, let’s get you clean.  You’ll sleep so much better.”

Gentle hands turned Gabriel over onto his back again and then his boxers were being tugged down.

Gabriel mumbled a complaint.  He was finally getting warm again and Sam’s shirt smelled like him, like pine trees and leather and gun oil, and he just wanted to sleep.  Cold water splashed his hip and he sat bolt upright with a startled squawk.

Sam was _laughing_ , the asshole, those broad shoulders shaking, eyes sparkling with mirth, and Gabriel glared at him.

“You couldn’t _warn_ me?” he groused.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Sam asked, and got to work.

Gabriel sank back onto his elbows and glowered, but Sam just grinned at him as he cleaned Gabriel’s skin in quick, deft motions.

“So, what’s your fiancée’s name?” he asked, halfway through.

“Jill,” Gabriel said.

“She seem like a nice person?” Sam asked, not looking up as he gently scrubbed a patch of dried blood on Gabriel’s left thigh.

Gabriel shrugged.  “Nice enough, I guess. We’ve only talked once on the phone, and written to each other some.  She’s not any happier about the marriage than I am, but she’s resigned to doing her duty.”

“Sounds like she’s pretty decent,” Sam said.  He moved down Gabriel’s leg, making Gabriel twitch as he cleaned behind his knee.

“Ticklish,” Gabriel complained.

“Sorry,” Sam said, a smile in his voice.  “So how come you don’t want to marry her?”

Gabriel stared at him.  “Well, there’s the whole ‘attracted to men’ thing, for one.  For another, I don’t _know_ her. And finally, as best I can ascertain, she doesn’t have a sense of humor.”

Sam winced, cleaning Gabriel’s foot.  “That _sucks._   How do you function without a sense of humor?”

“I have no idea,” Gabriel admitted.  “But then, I’m ninety percent snark, so maybe I’m not the best person to ask.”

“What’s the other ten percent?” Sam asked.

Gabriel grinned.  “State secret, pal. Need to know basis.”

Sam smiled back and moved on to his right leg, swabbing delicately, but Gabriel still flinched when he hit a tender spot.

“I’m sorry,” Sam murmured, head bent.  “I’m almost done.  Hang on just a little bit longer.”

The medication was blurring Gabriel’s thoughts, making it hard to concentrate, but he was dimly aware of Sam drying his legs off and pulling his boxers back up. Gabriel did his best to help through the haze, drifting in and out.

“Sleep well,” Sam whispered.  There was a brief brush of something against his forehead and then Gabriel was sinking under, exhaustion pulling him deep into the blackness.

 

He woke screaming, twisting violently sideways to get away from the explosion that was billowing toward him in slow motion, the huge slab of marble that was falling forward with terrible inexorability, and Gabriel _knew_ that he was going to be crushed beneath it, that nothing could stop it, that he was already dead.

He fell out of bed with a thud that knocked the air out of his lungs, curling in on himself in the fetal position.

The door flew open and someone rushed in, and then Gabriel was being gathered into strong arms that cradled him.  Gabriel smelled pinesap and gun oil and he burrowed his face against Sam’s chest on a choked off sob.

“Oh Gabe,” Sam whispered, grief in his voice.  “I’ve got you, I’m here, I’m so sorry, _breathe,_ I’ve got you.”

Gabriel wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist, gripping for all he was worth as the tears fell hot and heavy, soaking Sam’s t-shirt.  He was never going to walk again, never sprint anywhere for the sheer joy of running, never be able to do _anything_ on his own again.  He was helpless, useless; dependent on the goodwill of those around him for everything he needed.  Gabriel sobbed harder and Sam’s arms tightened.

“Let it out,” Sam murmured.  “Let me have it.”

Gabriel wept until there were no more tears and he was drained, exhausted and empty. Sam held him steady throughout, cheek resting against Gabriel’s hair and crooning quiet nonsense to him.

Silence finally descended, except for Gabriel’s occasional hiccupping breaths.

Sam shifted a little to resettle their weight and pull Gabriel a little more firmly into his lap, but he said nothing, his arms still wrapped around Gabriel’s trembling form.

Eventually Gabriel pulled away enough to wipe his face.  Sam let go, keeping a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder to steady him, and Gabriel looked up at him in the dim light.  There were tears on Sam’s cheeks too, he realized in shock. He reached up and wiped one away with his thumb and Sam closed his eyes on a shuddering breath.

“Help me back into bed?” Gabriel whispered. He wasn’t sure his body would respond at all in its current state.

Sam gathered him up and deposited him with gentle hands back on the mattress. Gabriel turned on his side as Sam pulled the blanket up over his shoulders, but when Sam tried to leave, Gabriel caught his wrist.

“Stay?”

Sam froze. “I… didn’t think you’d want me,” he said quietly.

Gabriel tugged on his arm wordlessly in response and Sam took a deep breath. Then he climbed over Gabriel’s motionless form and snugged himself in behind him, a long line of delicious heat enveloping Gabriel from head to toe.

Gabriel reached back blindly and found Sam’s arm, pulling it forward and draping it across his waist.  He sighed, relaxing into the bigger man’s embrace, and fell asleep again.

 

They settled into a routine fairly smoothly.  The three days without rations were unpleasant but manageable, thanks to Castiel and Dean’s hunting abilities and Sam’s creativity, and Gabriel ate everything that was put in front of him without complaint and didn’t ask for more.

Sam spent most of his time with Gabriel, teaching him how to play cards, stretching out those impossibly long legs in the chair next to the bed and flashing his dimples in wide smiles when Gabriel cracked jokes.  Sam was good company, Gabriel already knew that much, but he was pleasantly surprised when Sam turned out to have a sense of humor equal to his own, albeit sneakier and more subtle.

Dean and Castiel stayed close by, sharing the couch in the living room but rarely coming into Sam’s bedroom.

“It’s because of Michael,” Sam had told Gabriel eventually.  “If they stay away from you, they can claim they obeyed his orders for you to not see anyone but me.”

_Pity._  Gabriel had sighed inwardly but said nothing. He was beginning to be desperately bored.  He’d read all the books Sam had provided him with and the vegetable garden outside his window wasn’t exactly riveting entertainment.  At this point, he was considering taking up knitting, just to have something to keep his hands busy.

Gabriel ran his good hand through his hair and leaned against the wall, staring morosely out the glass pane.  Sam’s garden was well tended, kept meticulously free of weeds and laid out neatly in rows of various vegetables, and completely, utterly _boring._

Sam came around the corner in shirtsleeves, a bucket of tools in one hand and a spade slung over his shoulder.  He was whistling to himself and Gabriel straightened a little.  _This had possibilities._

Sam opened the garden gate and stepped inside.  He glanced up at the window and Gabriel shrank back a little, unwilling for Sam to watch him ogling.

Sam stretched, rolling his shoulders, and got to work.  Gabriel had no idea what he was doing, but he was glued to the window, unable to tear himself away as Sam shoveled heaping piles of rich dark earth.

Before long, Sam’s shirt was wet with sweat, and he stopped to wipe his forehead, leaving a smear of dirt behind.

Gabriel’s mouth was dry.  Sam gathered the hem of his t-shirt in both hands and yanked it off over his head and Gabriel couldn’t breathe.  God, Sam was _gorgeous._ Those long, muscular arms, the miles of golden skin suddenly on display, the way his muscles rolled under the skin as he resumed shoveling… Gabriel shifted position on the bed, suddenly, shockingly hard.

Sam kept working, oblivious, and Gabriel wrapped his hands in the bedspread in a desperate attempt to keep from touching himself.  _That’s creepy_ , he told himself sternly.  _Don’t be a pervert, Gabriel._

Sam straightened, setting his fists in the small of his back and stretching out the muscles, and Gabriel nearly groaned.  The dip of Sam’s lower back ought to be illegal.  Gabriel wanted to sip champagne from it, he decided, or maybe orange juice. Hell, he didn’t give a flying fuck; he just _wanted._

Sam’s head came up as someone called his name and Dean came around the corner of the cabin, carrying an axe.  Gabriel managed to keep his wordless noise of protest fairly quiet as Sam reached for his shirt and pulled it back on.  Then Sam was following Dean into the woods and Gabriel was left staring at his aching erection and wondering just exactly what he was going to do. Well, long-term. He knew exactly what he was going to do in the short-term.

He waited until the men were out of sight before he fumbled inside his straining boxers and pulled himself out. 

Gabriel’s eyes fluttered closed as he made a loose fist and began to stroke. _Sam._ So beautiful, six foot four of sex on legs.  God, Gabriel wanted him so badly.  He twisted his wrist on the upstroke, sliding his thumb over the slit of his cock, swiping through the pre-come that was already gathering.

He wanted Sam inside him, he thought desperately.  Wanted to be opened and then filled with all of Sam, green eyes holding his own and that huge body covering him, around him, over him, thrusting _into_ him, and that thought was all Gabriel needed.  He shoved a fist in his mouth to muffle the groan as he pulsed over his fingers in a long, shaky wave.  Finally he slumped back onto his pillows, trembling with the aftershocks, and stared out the window in the direction Sam and Dean had gone.

Sam couldn’t know.  The situation was fucked up enough as it was.  Add growing attraction to it and it became hopelessly entangled.  Gabriel wasn’t even sure he was going to live past the end of next week, with whatever Michael had in store for him.

Gabriel had to lock this down, get a grip on it and pretend nothing had changed. He took a steadying breath. He could do this. He had to. 

He grimaced at the mess he’d made and groped for the roll of toilet paper on the floor near the foot of the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel, you creeper.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam followed Dean into the woods for almost a mile.  “Are we swinging through Texas for this thing you want to show me?” he finally asked after dodging yet another low-hanging branch.

“Almost there,” Dean said over his shoulder.  “Aha!” He waited for Sam to come abreast and pointed triumphantly.

Sam looked where Dean was indicating.  A massive oak had come down in the storm that had blown through the night before he’d brought Gabriel back to the camp, and now lay in majestic ruin across the clearing he and Dean were standing in.

“You mentioned that Gabriel was going to need crutches or something,” Dean said, sounding a little diffident suddenly.  “I thought… I mean, Michael won’t give you any, and I know you’re good with your hands. So’s Cas.  I figured you guys could maybe make him a pair.”

Sam grabbed him and yanked him into a hug.  Dean squawked, then slapped him on the back. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, grinning.  “Pick out your wood and let’s get going.  I don’t want to leave Cas alone for too long, Jedi or not.”

Still, Sam took his time, appraising the branches thoroughly before finally settling on two approximately six feet long pieces and setting to with the axe.

They were almost back to the cabin before Dean spoke again.

“Sam,” he said, and hesitated.

Sam rolled his eyes.  “I know that tone of voice,” he said.  “That’s your ‘mom’ voice. Don’t bother, Dean.”

“I have to,” Dean insisted.  “You’d put your shoes on backwards if it wasn’t for me, dude.  So shut up and humor me.”  He stopped and rested the butt of the branch he was carrying on the ground and fixed Sam with a look.

“Listen. I know you and your Mother Teresa streak, okay?  You’d adopt Darth Vader if he showed up on your doorstep needing a place to stay.”

Sam groaned. “Come _on_ , Dean, seriously?”

“Seriously, now shut the fuck up.  Sam, Gabriel is bad news.  Or no, I take that back. _He’s_ not bad news; in fact, I kind of like the little dude. But you _know_ what Michael’s going to do to him, okay?  You can’t stop it, you can’t save him.  And if you fall for him, you’re going to end up breaking your heart over him and I can’t watch that, okay?  I can’t see you shatter over Gabriel the way you did over J-” He clamped his mouth shut as Sam glared at him.

“Thank you for your unsolicited opinion,” Sam said icily.  “The next time I want to hear things I already know, I’ll be sure to ask you first.”  He brushed past Dean on the narrow path and emerged into his cabin’s clearing, his brother on his heels.

“Look,” Dean began, and Sam rounded on him.

“ _No_ ,” he hissed. “ _You_ look. I’m responsible for Gabe, okay? I did this to him, even if it was an accident. It’s not some kind of Nightingale syndrome or whatever bullshit phrase you want to use.  I care about the guy and by God I am going to take care of him. And whatever I have to do, I will. Doesn’t mean I’m in love with him, dammit, and doesn’t mean I’m going to fall apart when he’s gone. Now could you _please_ shut up and help me get these onto the porch?”

Dean sighed and helped as Castiel came out the front door, looking startled.

“What on earth?” he said, catching the end of Dean’s branch and heaving it onto the porch.

“Crutches for Gabe,” Dean said, and pulled him into a kiss. 

“Would you be willing to help me, Cas?” Sam asked.

Castiel’s eyes lit up.  “Of course, Sam. I will go get my carving kit.”

 

~~

 

Gabriel was bored.  Beyond bored and right into “gouge out his eyes with a drill bit” territory. He shuffled the cards again, contemplated building a miniature Taj Mahal from them, and shrugged. Why the hell not?

He was halfway through the first large spire when the door bounced open and Gabriel yelped as the cards went flying.  He dove for the knife under his pillow and Sam raised his hands.

“Dude, whoa, it’s just me!”

Gabriel let his head fall back against the wall with a hollow thud. “Jesus, Sam, give a guy a heart attack.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sam said, and his voice was full of contrition.  “I didn’t even _think,_ Gabe, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Gabriel said, and began to gather cards.  “What’s going on?”

“I wanted to show you something,” Sam said.  His eyes were bright.

“Is that where you’ve been all afternoon?” Gabriel asked.

“Yeah,” Sam said.  “Sorry to leave you alone for so long, but I was trying to get it done.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Gabriel said.  “Show me already.”

“It’s outside, actually,” Sam said.  “At least, part of it is.”

Gabriel stared at him.  “You’re making no sense.” He held up his arms. “Let’s do this, then.”

Sam scooped him up and Gabriel gasped at the feeling of suddenly being weightless, cradled against Sam’s broad chest.

“You okay?” Sam said as he headed for the door.

Gabriel folded his hands in his lap and admired the line of Sam’s jaw. “Fine, thank you,” he said primly.

Castiel and Dean were waiting for them on the porch.  Castiel had a small smile playing on his lips and he was holding a pair of crutches.  Gabriel looked up at Sam, who was grinning down at him.

“You guys got me crutches?” Gabriel said.

“ _Made_ you crutches,” Sam corrected. “I did the main shapes, but Cas put the detail in.” 

He set Gabriel down on the porch and Gabriel held onto Sam’s arm for balance as Castiel held out the first crutch.

“We left them a little tall for now,” Castiel said.  “We wanted to be sure they would fit you, and we’ll adjust them as necessary.”

Gabriel took the crutch and tucked it into his right armpit. Castiel handed him the other crutch and Gabriel bit his lip and took a hesitant step forward, swinging his weight awkwardly.  The crutches were an inch or two too tall and they dug painfully into his armpits but he was upright, he was moving under his own power, he was _mobile,_ and his face hurt from the smile that wouldn’t go away.

Sam was hovering next to him, carefully not touching but ready to catch him if necessary, and grinning from ear to ear as well.

Gabriel made it almost the length of the porch before he began to tremble and Sam tried to step in.

“Just a little more!” Gabriel protested.

Sam dropped his hand and Gabriel swung himself forward again, tongue caught between his teeth.  Another step, then two, and then his leg buckled and Sam was diving to catch him as Gabriel folded in on himself.  Sam grabbed him, twisting as they went down so that he broke Gabriel’s fall.

They ended up in a heap on the porch, Gabriel in Sam’s arms and laughing breathlessly. His stump ached and pain was rocketing through his body but he didn’t care _._ He’d been _walking_!

Gabriel turned his head and met Sam’s eyes, still smiling.  Sam smiled back at him, a little rueful.

“Sorry,” he said.  “I should’ve caught you sooner.”

Gabriel snorted and impulsively kissed him on the nose.  “You made me crutches.  You never have to apologize again.”

Sam froze, staring up at him, and then Castiel was there, holding out a hand to Gabriel and hauling him upright.

Gabriel held onto Castiel’s arm, balancing precariously on his shaky leg until Sam regained his feet and picked him up.  Gabriel sighed in relief and relaxed against him and Sam laughed quietly.

“Enough excitement for one day, yeah?”

Castiel picked up the crutches, examining them critically.  “I think removing an inch will be sufficient. Sam, I’ll finish them up, you take care of Gabriel.”

 

The next morning, Sam brought Gabriel breakfast, and Gabriel gasped in delight at the glass of cool milk sitting on the tray.

Sam grinned at him.  “Jo’s cow just calved. Thought you might like some fresh milk.”

Gabriel toasted him with the glass and took a long swallow.  “How the mighty have fallen,” he sighed.  “Celebrating _milk_!”

Sam sat down on the edge of the bed and started unwrapping Gabriel’s leg while he ate.

“I was thinking,” he said, his head bent, “that maybe we could go out today.”

Gabriel stopped with the spoon halfway to his mouth.  “Something tells me that wouldn’t go over too well with your leader.”

Sam shrugged. “Not like he has to know.”

“Okay,” Gabriel said carefully, “maybe you should explain what you mean.”

“The woods back right up to the cabin,” Sam said.  “I thought maybe we could go for a hike.”

Gabriel set the spoon down.  “Sam, I didn’t think I had to explain this, but I’m missing half a leg.  Hiking isn’t exactly on my agenda, even _with_ crutches.”

Sam finished rewrapping Gabriel’s stump and smiled up at him. “Trust me,” was all he would say.

When Gabriel was done, Sam brought him a pair of Castiel’s old pants and helped him put them on.  Gabriel’s lip was bloodied from biting it by the time Sam got them up and zipped, but he just nodded when Sam asked if he was okay. 

“Ready?” Sam asked.

Gabriel lifted his arms in answer but Sam smiled at him and turned around, kneeling facing the door.  Gabriel gaped at his broad back for a minute.

“Are you serious?” he finally asked.

Sam looked over his shoulder.  “Haven’t got all day,” he said.  “Hop on already.”

Gabriel covered his face.  “Oh my God. This isn’t happening.”

Sam made an impatient noise.  “Come _on,_ Gabe. You’ll be glad you did, I promise!”

Gabriel sighed and scooted to the edge of the bed, gingerly straddling Sam’s hips and wrapping his arms around the bigger man’s shoulders.  Sam waited for him to get settled before he carefully got to his feet and put his hands behind his back to prop Gabriel up where he perched.

“Okay?” Sam asked.

Gabriel pressed his face against Sam’s shoulder blade. “I feel like an idiot,” he confessed into Sam’s flannel shirt.

Sam’s shoulders shook as he laughed.  “You look fine,” he said.  He started walking and Gabriel made a startled noise and clutched him a little tighter as Sam left the bedroom and made a brief detour to his tiny kitchen to grab a fabric cooler, which he passed to Gabriel.

“Here,” he said, “Make yourself useful.”

Gabriel settled the cooler strap over his shoulder and Sam headed for the door. Jedi was waiting on the porch and greeted them with a glad yip.

“Where are Dean and Cas?” Gabriel asked as Sam went down the porch steps, careful to move smoothly and not jar Gabriel needlessly.

“They had stuff to deal with at their cabin,” Sam said, heading around the back of the cabin. He skirted the vegetable garden and headed straight into the woods, moving easily even with Gabriel clinging to him like a limpet.

“Of course, you ask me,” Sam continued as he walked, “I think they mostly wanted to go have sex.”

Gabriel snorted in spite of himself.  “How long have they been together?”

“Two damn years,” Sam said, dodging a branch.  “You’d think by now they’d have it out of their system, but no….”

“And Michael doesn’t have a problem with gays?”

“Nah,” Sam said.  He’d found his stride and was moving well, covering ground in a smooth, easy lope. “Obviously, under-population is a concern, but Michael’s big on not forcing us into anything we don’t want to do. No arranged or forced marriages, but women are expected to bear at least two children apiece unless her health specifically forbids it, and she can choose any man as the father.”

“And he just has to, what… move in and raise the kid with her?” Gabriel asked. He ducked a branch that nearly swiped him off, resting his face against Sam’s back for a moment and feeling the muscles moving freely under his cheek.

“No way,” Sam was saying when Gabriel lifted his head again.  “He has to father the kid, but then his duty is done. He can go back to his own life with whoever he wants.  After he’s fathered two kids, then it’s his choice whether he wants to have more.”

Gabriel turned this over in his head, scarcely aware of their surroundings. “And the mom?” he asked. “Is she just saddled with kids whether she wants them or not?”

Sam shook his head, stepping over a small stream and sliding a little in the pine needles that blanketed the ground.  “That’s what the crèche is for.  If she _wants_ to raise her own kids, of course she can, and preference is given for that, but for, say, our soldiers? They’re on light duty until their third trimester, then KP until they deliver. _That_ goes over well with some of ‘em, let me tell you.”

Gabriel snorted at the mental image.  “And after?”

“After, they turn the baby over to the crèche and it’s back to work as usual,” Sam said.

“What about you?” Gabriel asked, and he didn’t miss the way Sam tensed under him.

“What _about_ me?” Sam countered.

“Do you have a couple of rugrats running around?” Gabriel asked.

Sam was silent for a moment.  “Yeah,” he finally said, and Gabriel nearly fell off his back.

“You _do_?” he demanded. “Who?  Where?  With who?”

“It’s not like you’re going to know them!” Sam protested.

“Still want to know,” Gabriel said.

Sam sighed. “I have a little girl,” he said, his voice almost inaudible.  “She’s almost two.”

“What’s her name?”

“Ellie. Named after her grandmother.”

Sam was tense under Gabriel, his movements slightly jerky, and Gabriel couldn’t think of anything to say.  The trees were beginning to thin out and finally they emerged into a clearing, both men blinking in the bright sunlight.

Sam turned in a circle to give Gabriel a good view.

“What do you think?” he asked.

Gabriel looked around.  The sun was well up over the trees, casting dappled shade at their feet.  Gabriel could hear a burbling brook somewhere out of sight, and the birds chirping in the branches overhead added to the idyllic feel.

“This is… nice,” Gabriel said.  “I’ll bet you bring all the pretty girls here.”

Sam snorted and knelt in the middle of the clearing, letting Gabriel slide off and into the knee-high, thick grass.  Gabriel lay back, taking a deep breath of the cool fall air, and watched the clouds scudding by overhead while Sam made rustling and clinking noises out of his field of vision.

Then Sam was lying down next to him, looking up at the clouds.  “See anything interesting?” he asked.

“Not unless you consider a missile launcher and mechanical kangaroo interesting,” Gabriel said.

Sam laughed quietly and they lay still for several minutes before Gabriel rolled on his side, pillowing his head on his arm, and looked into Sam’s face.

“Tell me about your daughter?” he asked.

Sam decapitated a stalk of grass, a smile flickering across his lips. “Ellie,” he said. “Sharp as a tack, smarter than me and her mama combined.  She’s a holy terror; keeps the entire camp on their toes.”

“And her mother didn’t want to raise her with you?” Gabriel asked.

Sam shrugged one shoulder.  “Jo and I were never together, and she's one of the most independent cusses you’ll ever meet,” he said, smiling a little.  “A week after she gave birth, she left the crèche and refused to go back.  Said she was suffocating there.”  He sat up and began digging in the cooler, handing Gabriel a sandwich. 

Gabriel bit into it, making happy noises at discovering that it was cold venison and a layer of thick smoked cheese.  Sam smiled at him as Gabriel chewed and swallowed.

“Good?” he asked.

Gabriel nodded around another mouthful.

“Ellie’s got more family than she knows what to do with,” Sam continued. “Just because she doesn’t have a father doesn’t mean she doesn’t have plenty of family to help raise her. To her, I’m Uncle Sammy, and I’m just as happy with that title.  I’ll always be a part of her life, but this is how Jo wants it, and I respect her wishes.”

They ate in peaceful silence for a while.  When they were done, Sam gathered up their trash and put it away in the cooler while Gabriel stretched and looked around. 

“Dean and I used to come up here when we were kids,” Sam told him. “Our dad hung a tire swing from that tree over there, see?”  He pointed to a frayed rope still hanging from a low branch.  Standing up, he brushed off his knees and picked up the food containers.  “I’m going to rinse these out in the stream.  Be right back.”

 

~~~

 

Sam could feel Gabriel’s eyes on him as he and Jedi headed into the trees. The shorter man’s gaze was thoughtful, considering, and Sam was just as happy to escape for a few minutes. He stepped into the shade and made his way down to the small brook, rinsing out the plastic and straightening with a sigh.  Jedi took a drink of water and then collapsed on her side, panting happily, and Sam rubbed her ears, thinking hard.

He was glad they’d done this.  Gabriel had needed to get out of the cabin, and Sam had been wanting to tell him about Ellie for awhile. He felt… lighter, somehow. Gabriel knew all his secrets now.

He was climbing out of the streambed when he heard the noise.  A horse snorted and stomped its hoof, and Sam melted behind a tree, pressing himself against the trunk and holding his breath. Low voices floated through the trees and Sam strained to hear.  Jedi snarled soundlessly and Sam grabbed her muzzle, making the sign for silence.

“… Sergeant,” one of them said.

There were two of them, black and gold uniforms showing in glimpses through the trees. Sam couldn’t quite make out what else they were saying, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

And Gabriel was in the open, out there in the grass where they’d see him any second. Sam stifled the terror that surged through him, forcing himself to think.

Maybe… maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing, if they found Gabriel.  He was a soldier himself.  If this patrol took him back to Lafayette, he could get proper medical attention, maybe even a prosthetic leg.  He’d be safe, cared for, and he wouldn’t have to undergo whatever Michael had planned for him.

Gabriel’s head came up from the tall grass, looking for the source of the noise. Sam watched, feeling his heart breaking. Now, now Gabriel would signal the soldiers and they would take him away.  He would be safe.

Instead of calling out, though, Gabriel flattened himself on the ground, disappearing from view.  Sam waited, stunned, but the voices were fading, the two soldiers skirting the clearing and heading farther north.  Still there was no movement from the grass and Sam didn’t understand it.  Why didn’t Gabriel call out?  Sam couldn’t do it, couldn’t risk being taken captive himself, but Gabriel… he’d be _safe_ with the soldiers. Why didn’t he _say_ something?

Sam waited until the soldiers were well on their way, no chance of overhearing them, before he and Jedi burst from the trees and crossed the clearing in a few quick strides.  Gabriel looked up, golden eyes wide with alarm, as Sam went to his knees next to him, shoving everything back in the cooler and making sure they were leaving no trace of themselves behind.

“Sam,” Gabriel whispered, and Sam put a hand over his mouth.  Gabriel’s eyes got wider but he took the hint and stayed silent.

It only took a few seconds and then Sam was slinging the cooler across his chest and holding out a hand to Gabriel, who took it and struggled upright. Sam turned his back and bent his knees as Gabriel wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck.

Sam was moving the second he knew Gabriel was secure.  No time for sightseeing; he was in mission mode.  His long legs ate up the ground effortlessly, even with an extra hundred and fifty pounds on his back, and Gabriel clung to his neck and didn’t say a word.  Jedi kept pace beside them, tongue lolling out as she loped along.

Even so, the trip home seemed to take forever, and Sam didn’t relax until he reached the boundary of Michael’s camp and signaled the sentry on duty, _Jo,_ he realized with an unpleasant shock, that he was coming through.

Jo just lifted a hand and watched him pass.  Gabriel had his head down, cheek resting on Sam’s shoulder blade, and Sam wasn’t sure he’d even seen her.

They made it to the cabin and Sam shoved the door open, striding through the empty living room straight to the bedroom.  Jedi, wisely, decided it was in her best interests to stay out of the storm that was brewing, and she skittered out of the bedroom before Sam had unceremoniously deposited Gabriel on the bed.

Gabriel sprawled on the mattress, staring up at Sam in shock.

Sam took a step away, running a hand through his hair.  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demanded.

Gabriel pushed himself upright.  “ _Me_?  Nothing’s wrong with _me,_ what the fuck is wrong with _you_?”

Sam stared at him, suddenly lost for words.

“You just _left_ me in the grass out there,” Gabriel said, his voice shaking.  “They could’ve been anyone, could’ve killed me, Sam, and you were just… _gone._ Hiding? So worried about saving your own skin that you just left me to –”

“They were soldiers, Gabe!” Sam interrupted.  “I wasn’t hiding from them, you idiot, I was giving you the chance to signal them!”

Gabriel’s mouth was hanging open.  “ _Why_?” he demanded.

“ _So you could go home_!” Sam shouted. He took another step away and rubbed his face.  “So you could go home,” he repeated.  “So you could get proper medical care, maybe even a prosthetic leg, so you don’t have to live on twigs and berries out here in the woods.  _That’s_ what I was doing, okay? _I was letting you go_!”

Gabriel just stared at him for an achingly long moment, stunned. Sam couldn’t bear it suddenly. He turned away.

“I have to….” He didn’t know what he was doing, he just knew he needed to get away, to not see the utter dumbfounded look on Gabriel’s face.

“Sam, _wait,”_ Gabriel said.

Sam paused, his hand on the door, back to Gabriel.

“Aren’t you… why haven’t you asked me why I didn’t call out?” Gabriel asked.

Sam lifted a shoulder.  “None of my business,” he said to the doorknob.

“Sam, look at me,” Gabriel said.  He was struggling to get to the edge of the bed, lip caught between his teeth. As Sam watched, Gabriel swung his leg over the side, grabbed the dresser, and hauled himself upright.

“Gabe, stop!” Sam said, alarmed, but Gabriel ignored him.  He braced himself and hopped forward, gritting his teeth against the pain, and Sam couldn’t stand it anymore.  He rushed forward as Gabriel’s leg buckled and caught him just before he went down.

Gabriel flung his arms around Sam’s neck, panting, and Sam steadied him.

“You _idiot,_ ” he said. “What are you _doing_?”

Gabriel’s face was white, his breath coming in short, sharp jerks.  “Ask me,” he gritted out.

Sam blinked. “Ask you… what?”

Gabriel gave him a _look_ that said he didn’t think much of Sam’s intelligence at that moment.  “Ask me why I didn’t call to the soldiers,” he said.

Sam swallowed hard.  He couldn’t think with Gabriel so close, arms around his neck and their bodies pressed together like this. He cleared his throat. “Why…”

Gabriel pulled his head down and pressed their mouths together.  Sam’s brain shorted out completely.  Gabriel was _kissing_ him, tongue flicking out and testing, teasing, asking to be let in, and Sam groaned and began to kiss back in earnest.  After a minute, Gabriel began to tremble, and Sam broke away with a muffled curse and picked him up. 

Gabriel smiled down at him, straddling Sam’s waist and balancing himself with his hands on Sam’s shoulders, and Sam thought he might burst with happiness.

“ _That’s_ why,” Gabriel said, and kissed him again.

Sam backed across the room and sat down on the bed, pulling Gabriel firmly into his lap and being careful not to brush his stump as he settled them both comfortably.

Gabriel was too busy kissing him to notice, licking and nipping his way down Sam’s jaw to lavish attention on the skin under his t-shirt.

Sam moaned as Gabriel nibbled along his collarbone, head falling back. “Jesus, Gabe, your _mouth._ ”

“One of my better qualities,” Gabriel agreed, lifting his head.  His face was flushed, pupils blown.  “You’re so gorgeous, Sam.  I’ve been wanting to do this for ages.”  He scooted closer until Sam could feel the erection pressed against his belly and Sam shivered.

“You play dirty,” he managed, and Gabriel grinned down at him.

“ _You_ have too many clothes on, Winchester,” he said.

Sam groaned and reached for his shirt hem and the door bounced open with a bang. Dean was standing in the doorway, his eyes worried.

Gabriel scrambled sideways off Sam’s lap onto the bed and Sam tugged his shirt back down.

“Dean, what the hell -”

“No time,” Dean interrupted. “Michael’s on his way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~drops cliffhanger and runs away~


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: fairly graphic torture scene
> 
> (I'm so, so sorry please don't kill me)

Gabriel straightened.  _Oh shit._  

Sam stood up, panic all over his face.  “Dean, you have to stall him.”  He turned to Gabriel.  “We’re leaving, _now._ ”

“Sam,” Gabriel said, but Sam wasn’t listening.

“Did you hear me?” he said to Dean, still standing in the doorway.  “ _Stall_ him, dammit!”

“Sam,” Gabriel said, louder.

Sam was rummaging in the dresser.  He came up clutching the knife.  “Just get me a few minutes’ head-start,” he told his brother.  “Time enough to lose him in the woods.  I’ll take it from there.”

Dean shot Gabriel a stricken look over Sam’s head.

“ _Sam_!” Gabriel shouted.

Sam froze and Gabriel held out his hand.  “There isn’t time, sweetheart.  Come here.”

Sam shook his head.  “No. No, Gabriel, we’re getting you out of here.  I won’t let you…”

“Come _here,_ ” Gabriel repeated.

Sam took a step forward, his shoulders slumping.  When he was close enough, Gabriel took his hand and Sam slid to his knees on the floor in front of him.  There were tears in his eyes, Gabriel realized with a clutch of his heart.

He reached out with the hand not holding Sam’s and cupped the taller man’s cheek, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone.

“He won’t kill me,” Gabriel whispered.  “I’ll be okay.”

The first tear slid down Sam’s face and he shook his head. “You don’t know Michael. He’s… not human, Gabe.”

Gabriel swallowed hard.  “Nothing we can do about that now, kiddo. You gotta stay with Dean.  I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Sam shook his head again as footsteps sounded on the porch and Jedi barked a sharp warning.

“Get up, Sam,” Gabriel said urgently.  “ _Dean_.”

Dean came to the rescue, hauling Sam to his feet as he struggled. A tall, dark-haired man appeared in the doorway, dark brown eyes cold as they surveyed Gabriel sitting on the bed.

“Looks like he’s doing better than I was led to believe,” Michael said, flicking a glance in Sam’s direction before refocusing on Gabriel.

Gabriel sat up a little straighter but said nothing.

Michael spoke briefly to the dark-skinned man standing behind him, who nodded and stepped forward.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked, his voice choked.  Dean had let go of him but was clearly poised to grab him again.

“Well, I’m not going to question him _here,_ ” Michael said, sounding almost amused.  “Raf is going to carry him back to headquarters for me.”

“I’ll do it,” Sam said, taking a step forward.

“No need,” Michael said, waving him back.  “That’s why I brought Raf.”

Dean gripped Sam’s arm as Raf stepped forward and scooped Gabriel up. His arms were hard, unyielding, and Gabriel couldn’t breathe against the terror that was welling inside him. He shoved it down, hard, and focused on Sam’s agonized face as he was carried out the door.

His last image was the tears that were tracking down Sam’s cheeks, Dean holding him tight and talking in a low, urgent voice.

Michael led the way across the campground without speaking and Gabriel looked around him as they walked.

It was the first look Gabriel had gotten of Michael’s base.  It was late afternoon and people were out and about. Campfires were blazing, knots of soldiers and hunters gathered around them and talking in comfortable, easy tones. Children darted between campsites, laughing and calling to each other in high-pitched voices.

Curious eyes followed them as Michael and Raf walked by, but no one said anything to them.

They headed for a long, low building and Michael held the door for Raf. Gabriel blinked, eyes adjusting to the dim light, and looked around.  The building was one long room, iron bars bisecting it in several places to form cells. Raf took Gabriel in one such, depositing him on the hard cot without ceremony.

Michael joined him in the cell, setting down a folding chair, planting himself in it and looking at him thoughtfully.

“Sam seems to have gotten a little too attached to you,” he said.

Gabriel forced himself to shrug.  “He’s young and impressionable, and he feels guilty because of the whole leg thing. He’ll get over it.”

Michael nodded.  “How _is_ the whole ‘leg thing’?”

“Healing,” Gabriel said tersely.  How long was Michael going to make him wait? 

“I was pretty upset when Sam told me he’d brought you here,” Michael confided. “A soldier here, in the heart of my operation?  Really bad idea, you know?”

“I imagine it could be,” Gabriel agreed.  His heart was thudding so hard he thought maybe Michael could hear it.

“But then I got to thinking,” Michael continued, stretching out his legs like an indolent housecat.  “And I thought, you might just come in handy after all.  So here’s the deal.”  He leaned forward and the housecat was gone; in its place was a leopard, sleek and deadly. Gabriel swallowed hard.

“You will tell me everything you know,” Michael said.  His tone brooked no refusal.

“And if I don’t?” Gabriel managed to say.

“You will,” Michael said.  He stood up and began to pace in front of the bed.  “You don’t strike me as completely stupid.  So if you wish to live, then you will give me every detail you remember about your job.  Who you reported to. How many were above you in the chain of command.  Who was in charge of the battle reports, who handled the maps, who the tactician for your area was. Who your commanding officer utilized when they needed a native to traverse the swamp quickly and easily. Where their patrols covered, and what area they were focused on next.  You will tell me all this, Gabriel, and you will spare no detail. Am I understood?”

Gabriel was drowning in fear, choking on it.  He couldn’t breathe, frozen in place like a rabbit mesmerized by a snake, but he managed to take a single shaky breath.  “Go to hell,” he whispered.

Michael smiled, fierce and delighted.  “Oh, I was hoping you’d say that,” he said, and kicked Gabriel’s stump.

Gabriel arched up off the bed with a strangled scream.  Agony rocketed through his body, his nerves flaring white-hot.

Michael didn’t wait for him to recover.  He dragged Gabriel upright by his shirt, _Sam’s shirt, Sam Sam Sam,_ and punched him in the face twice. Gabriel’s head snapped back and he tasted blood, metallic and bitter. 

“How many patrols are in your area?” Michael asked.

“Bite me,” Gabriel choked, and spat blood in Michael’s face.

Michael snarled and punched him twice more, harder this time.  Gabriel lost consciousness briefly, coming to on the concrete floor. _When had that happened?_

Michael dragged him upright and Gabriel clutched his wrists, swaying precariously. It hurt to breathe and his left eye was swelling shut, already nearly impossible to see out of.

“Who is your commanding officer?”

Gabriel dragged in a great gulp of air.  “Fuck you,” he gasped.  “I think he’s Chinese.” The blow to his ribs cracked at least two, and Gabriel doubled over, sobbing for breath. 

Michael let go and Gabriel folded to the floor in a heap, still struggling to breathe. His lungs weren’t cooperating and his vision was beginning to dim.  Michael kicked his stump again and Gabriel jack-knifed in agony, scrabbling at the floor.

He could hear Michael moving above him, but he couldn’t track where he was. He was floating in a sea of pain. _Sam Sam I need you where are you Sam please_

Michael’s toe in his ribs nudged Gabriel onto his back and he flopped like a landed fish, gasping for air.

Michael loomed into his field of vision and Gabriel flinched away, tensing against a blow that didn’t land.  Instead, Michael was lifting him up, depositing him almost gently on the bed.

Gabriel sprawled on the mattress, his body wracked by spasms, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling.

“Who is your commanding officer?” Michael asked.

Gabriel didn’t answer. _Sam, I need you. I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough._

Michael sighed heavily and wrenched Gabriel’s little finger back. Gabriel screamed as the bone snapped, tears streaming down his bloodied face.

“Who is your commanding officer?”

Gabriel curled up on his side, cradling his injured hand.  He couldn’t do this.  He wasn’t strong enough.

“A different question then,” Michael said, disappointment in his voice. “How many patrols are in the Lafayette area?”

Gabriel closed his eyes.  “I don’t know.”   Expecting the pain didn’t make it hurt any less when Michael took hold of the already broken finger and jerked sharply.

“How many patrols, Gabriel?”

 _Please._ “I don’t _know,_ ” Gabriel said.  He coughed wetly, blood dripping down his chin, and conjured up Sam’s face, soft with concern, tender and affectionate, the way he closed his eyes when he kissed, the feel of his lips on Gabriel’s….

Michael sighed again and stood up.  “I’d hoped to avoid this,” he said, and lifted his voice.  “Raf, bring the water bucket and towel.  I’ll need you to hold him down.”

 _They were going to waterboard him,_ Gabriel realized with a rush of horror. He tried to struggle upright and Michael pinned him to the cot with one hand. 

“I don’t think so.”

“I don’t _know_ anything,” Gabriel panted. “You have to believe me, I was the lowest rung in the ladder!  If I knew anything at all, I’d tell you, I swear I would!”

Michael looked at him, considering.  “And yet,” he mused, “I don’t believe you.  Ah, good,” he said to Raf, who entered with a bucket of water in one hand and a towel in the other.  “Hold him for me.”

It got very hard for Gabriel to think after that.

 

It was dark when he woke up, and someone was touching his face.  Gabriel flinched violently backward, nearly falling off the narrow bed.

“Please,” he mumbled.  “Please, I don’t know anything….”

“Gabe,” a familiar voice choked out, hands catching and steadying him.

 _Sam_? It was a trick. Michael was tricking him or he was hallucinating, or something.  Sam wasn’t there.

“It’s me,” Sam whispered, his voice thick with tears.  “Oh Gabe, I’m so sorry.  Just hold on, I’m getting you out of here.”

“No, Sam, you have to go,” Gabriel slurred.  “Michael… he’ll catch you.  Kill you. Have to… go.  _Please,_ Sam.”

“Not without you,” Sam said fiercely, and pulled Gabriel’s arm over his shoulder. “Hold on, baby.”

Gabriel clung to him as Sam scooped him into his arms and stood up. He could only see out of one eye, but the room seemed dark and still.

Sam stepped through the open cell door and then stopped dead and began to back up, arms tightening almost painfully around Gabriel.

“No, no,” he whispered.  “ _No.”_

“Sam,” Michael said, sounding terribly disappointed.  “Really, Sam, I expected better from you.”

Then Gabriel was being torn from Sam’s arms and he cried out in shock and pain, flailing desperately to reach him.  One wild arm connected with a thud and he heard a grunt from whoever was holding him. He was dumped unceremoniously on the cot and struggled to sit up, nearly sobbing in despair.  He couldn’t see Sam, could only make out dim shapes in the darkened room.

“Sam!”

“I’m here, Gabri-” Sam’s voice cut off with the sound of a fist connecting and a pained grunt, and Gabriel was suddenly filled with rage and loathing.

“Don’t you touch him, you fucking _bastard_!” he shouted.  “He hasn’t done _anything_!I’m the one you want, goddamn you!”

There was a considering pause.

“Very interesting,” Michael mused.  “So if I do this…” A fist drove into Sam’s ribs with a meaty thud, Sam gasped in pain and Gabriel clutched his head in frustration.

“Leave him alone!” he cried.  “He can’t help you anyway!”

Michael was suddenly there, looming into Gabriel’s limited field of vision. “No, but you can, can’t you?” he said. “So how much are you willing to tell me to keep me from touching him?”

“Don’t do it, Gabe,” Sam gasped, and grunted again as Raf punched him.

Gabriel sagged, defeated.  “I don’t know much,” he whispered.  “But I’ll tell you everything.  Just… don’t touch him again.”

“I think we’re getting somewhere,” Michael said.  “Don’t you, Raf?”

Raf murmured agreement from the other side of the room.  There was a scuffing noise and Sam was shoved violently into Gabriel’s cell.  He landed hard on his knees, wincing, and Michael clanged the door shut and locked it.

“I don’t know about you,” he said to Gabriel, “but I don’t like to do my interrogation on an empty stomach and no sleep.  Plus I want you to be able to see what happens to your boyfriend if you don’t answer my questions, so we’ll continue this in the morning. Sleep well now; tomorrow’s a big day.”

Sam waited for the outer door to close before he scrambled to Gabriel’s side, cupping his face in both big hands.

“Gabe,” he whispered.  “Talk to me, baby, what’d he do to you?”

Gabriel turned his face into Sam’s hand.  “You shouldn’t be here,” he mumbled.  “Shouldn’t… I’m so glad you’re here, Sammy, so glad…” He choked on a bitten off sob.

Soft lips brushed his forehead and then Sam was crawling onto the narrow cot, lining up against Gabriel’s aching body.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured into Gabriel’s ear.  “I’ve got you.”

 

Several hours later, Gabriel jerked out of his fitful doze, heart pounding, to their cell door opening.  It wasn’t morning already, surely?  He blinked and tried to focus.  A slim blonde woman was standing there, hands on hips. 

“Are you guys going to sleep all day or are you going to let me save your sorry asses?” she asked.

Sam sat bolt upright.  “ _Jo_?”

The woman cocked her head and smiled at him.  “Save the heartfelt declarations of love for another time, buddy. Get your boyfriend and let’s get the fuck out of here, shall we?”

Sam scrambled off the cot and turned to Gabriel, who pulled back.

“Are you… are you sure?” Gabriel whispered.

Sam smiled at him.  “I trust Jo with my life, Gabe.  You can trust her too, I promise.”

Gabriel bit his lip and looked at the young woman in the cell door. She was fidgeting, looking at her watch, and Gabriel made up his mind.

“Okay,” he said, and Sam scooped him into his arms.

Jo led the way out of the building.  It was dark and still outside, no one about.  Gabriel twined his fingers in Sam’s shirt and closed his eyes as they started running. He was so tired. His entire body was one giant ache; he couldn’t distinguish one pain from another, and he was too exhausted to see where they were going.

They ran for several minutes, no sound but their breathing breaking the silence, until Jo called a halt.  Gabriel opened his eyes when they stopped moving.  They were deep in the forest, and he didn’t recognize their surroundings. Not that he would, he admitted to himself; forestry wasn’t exactly his strong suit.

Jo cupped her hands to her mouth and hooted like an owl, and Gabriel flinched as Dean dropped out of the tree almost directly above them.  Sam’s arms tightened around him.

Dean clasped Sam’s arm.  “That was the _dumbest_ stunt you’ve ever pulled,” he said. “I’m glad you’re okay because I’d’ve had to kick your ass myself if you hadn’t made it out of there.” He leaned closer to see Gabriel’s battered face and winced.  “How’s he doing?” he asked Sam.

“He’s been better,” Sam said tersely.  “Where’s Cas?  I thought you guys were under house arrest.”

Dean rolled his eyes.  “As if that’s going to stop us.  Cas is up ahead, waiting with the truck.”  He turned to Jo. “Couldn’t have done it without you, gorgeous.”

“You couldn’t find your _ass_ with both hands and a map,” Jo retorted, and yanked him in for a quick kiss. “Now get the fuck out of here.” She turned to Sam, going up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek as well.  “Take care of yourself, Sammy,” she said gently.

Sam swallowed.  “I will. Take care of Jedi for me, Jo… and tell Ellie…” He trailed off, and Jo nodded.

“I will. Don’t worry.  Now _go,_ Sam, the diversion I planted isn’t going to hold them much longer.”

Sam nodded jerkily and plunged after Dean through the underbrush.  Gabriel held on tight, mind drifting again. He wasn’t sure where he was or how long they’d been moving when Sam finally halted again.

A vehicle door creaked open and voices came as if from a distance. Then Sam was climbing into the backseat of his truck, Gabriel still cradled against him.

Dean asked a question and Sam’s arms tightened.  “No,” he said sharply.  “No, he stays with me.  Just… did you get his pills?”

A bottle rattled and Sam touched Gabriel’s cheek.  “Gabe, can you wake up enough to take a pill?  You’ll feel better, I promise.”

Gabriel moaned and turned his face away, into Sam’s chest, and Sam took a shaky breath. “Come on, sweetheart, _please._   You can sleep after, okay?”

Gabriel sighed, opening his mouth, and obediently swallowed the pill that Sam placed on his tongue.

The engine started and the truck began to move as Gabriel slid into darkness again. The last thing he registered was Sam’s cheek against his hair and the smell of gun oil and leather.

 

Sunlight on his face woke him briefly.  The truck was moving and Gabriel was warm, cradled in Sam’s arms, floating on a sea of drugged calm.  The aches and pains were muted, pushed to the background by the medicine, and Gabriel opened his eyes cautiously, wincing at the bright light.

Sam’s head was back against the headrest, his eyes closed, arms still wrapped around Gabriel’s body.  Gabriel traced the line of Sam’s jaw with his eyes, startled by the love that swamped him. _Love_? He shook his head as if to dispel the thought.  He wasn’t in love. He barely knew Sam.

And yet… he _did_ know him. He knew what Sam looked like with his head thrown back in laughter, green-gold eyes bright with mirth. He knew what Sam looked like angry and hurting.  He’d seen Sam in the worst of circumstances, trapped by his own morals, and he’d never met anyone with a fiercer conviction for doing what was right.  Sam was… Sam was _good._ Through and through, in a way that Gabriel could only envy.  _His knight in shining plaid,_ Gabriel thought, and smiled to himself as his eyes slid shut again.

 

When he woke again, the sun was creeping toward the horizon, warm golden rays slanting across the cab of the truck.  They were parked, Gabriel realized, and he tried to sit up to look around.

His body locked up in a silent protest and his mouth fell open in agony, back arching as his muscles seized. 

Sam woke up with a jerk.  “Gabe? _Gabe_! Hang on, baby, just hang on, breathe, I’ve got your pills right here.”  He fumbled with the bottle one-handed, shaking two out onto his palm and helping Gabriel swallow them.

Gabriel struggled for air, tears leaking from his eyes, and Sam held him close, cheek against his hair.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.  His thumb stroked Gabriel’s right thigh, far enough up that it didn’t add to the pain that was still rocketing through his nerves.

“S’okay,” Gabriel managed after a minute.  “I’m okay, Sammy.”  He was clutching Sam’s arm, he realized, and forced his fingers to unclench.  “Where are we?”

“Getting fuel,” Sam said.  “My truck still had goods from my last run, so Dean’s off trading some stuff for gas and food for us.”

Gabriel nodded, cheek against Sam’s chest and eyes closed.  “’Kay.  We still in Louisiana?”

“For now,” Sam said.  “We’re heading for one of Michael’s outposts.”

Gabriel stiffened. 

“Easy,” Sam said hurriedly, “it’s okay, Gabe, they won’t have heard anything yet. And we have to, in any case. We’re trying to get into Texas, which means we need documents.  And Ash is the only guy good enough to fake the papers necessary.  Trust me, okay?  I’m not going to let anything else happen to you.”

The truck door opened and Dean slid into the driver’s seat.  Castiel followed a minute later, handing Sam a paper bag. Sam made a grateful noise as he opened it.

“Can you sit up a bit?” he asked Gabriel.  “Cas got us some food.”

He helped Gabriel into a slightly more upright position, his back against the truck door and his legs draped across Sam’s lap.  Gabriel’s teeth were clenched and he was trembling before they had him situated, and Sam’s jaw was tight, grief bright in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, touching the side of Gabriel’s face that wasn’t bruised.

Gabriel leaned into his hand.  “Stop apologizing, you idiot,” he said, “and feed me.”  He took the sandwich Sam offered him and bit into it, chewing carefully. A couple of teeth were loose, he realized, but thankfully none appeared to be broken. 

“How much farther do we have?” Sam asked Dean.

Dean pulled out a map and consulted it.  “Ash’s outside of Shreveport.  We should be able to make it in another couple of hours if we push.  Once we’re there, we’ll hole up for a couple days while he makes the papers, then we’ll cross into Texas.”

“How come you didn’t bring Jedi?” Gabriel asked.

Sam lifted a shoulder.  “Dog that big… she’d attract too much attention.  She can help take care of Ellie; she adores her, and this way I know they’re both in good hands with each other.”

Gabriel scooted down a little until he could rest his head on Sam’s shoulder. The drugs were kicking in and the pain was beginning to fade a bit.  Sam rubbed his leg and Gabriel sighed, closing his eyes.

“Wake me up when we get there.  Or when the next apocalypse happens, I’m not picky.”

Dean started the engine as Sam snorted quietly and Gabriel fell asleep with his cheek pressed against Sam’s shirt.


	8. Chapter 8

Ash was a lunatic, Gabriel decided.  He’d popped up from a hole in the ground when their truck pulled up outside his camp, wearing a ghillie suit and camouflage face-paint, looking like a commando on a night raid.

He’d been holding an AK-47 in one hand and a beer in the other, a combination that made Gabriel more than a little nervous. 

“’Sup, dudes?” he called, and swung the gate open so Dean could pull the truck through.

Castiel looked over the backseat and smiled reassuringly at Gabriel. “He’s harmless, Dean keeps telling me,” he said.  “I remain unconvinced, but I do think he means well.”

“Hey, he hasn’t started a bar-fight in ages!” Dean protested.  “And that one time he shot me, it was totally an accident.”

Castiel rolled his eyes as Ash opened Dean’s door and hauled him out to give him a bear hug, grinning maniacally.

“It’s been _years,_ man, where the fuck you been?”

“Fighting the good fight down Lafayette way,” Dean said, grinning back. “How’ve you been?”

“Good, good,” Ash said.  He released Dean and leaned into the truck.  “Hey Cas! Sammy baby, how’s it hanging? Whoa, who’s this?”

Gabriel lifted a hand in a weak salute.

“Ash, this is Gabriel,” Sam said.  “He’s with us. Me.  He’s with me.”

“Nice to meet you, Gabriel,” Ash said.  “I’d shake your hand but looks like you’re on death’s doorstep as it is. Wouldn’t want to push you through the door.”  He turned to Dean. “Pull around back, man. You’re in luck; I just butchered my old milk cow.  Steak for dinner!”

Sam refused help getting Gabriel out of the cab of the truck.  Gabriel wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck as the taller man slid off the bench seat and landed on the ground with a thud that jarred them both. Gabriel set his jaw and didn’t make a noise, but Sam flinched anyway.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I’m going to tape your mouth shut if you apologize again,” Gabriel said through his teeth.

Sam looked miserable, shifting Gabriel’s weight in his arms to a more comfortable position.  “I can’t help it,” he admitted.  “Everything you’re going through is because of me.  You wouldn’t even _be_ here if it weren’t for me.  You’d still have both your legs, still have your job, Michael never would’ve touched you… it’s all my fault.  Why don’t you hate me, Gabe?”

Gabriel glanced at Castiel and Dean, talking to Ash out of earshot, and sighed. “Sam, I’m going to tell you a secret. I _hated_ my job.  Like, dreamed of running away and joining the circus, if those were still a thing. I dreaded going into work in the mornings.  It was mind-numbing, miserable, boring, and I could _feel_ my brain turning to mush while I was standing outside that fucking door.”

“Maybe so,” Sam said, “But you were _safe._ ”

“Safe is overrated,” Gabriel said.  “I hated my life.”

“And, what?” Sam said.  “You _like_ this life?  On the run, in horrible pain and missing a leg?”

“My God, aren’t you just a little ray of sunshine?” Gabriel said. Sam’s face was a mask of misery and Gabriel abruptly lost patience with him.  He reached up and caught the back of Sam’s neck, pulling his head down until he could press their lips together.  Caught off-guard, Sam grunted but then he was kissing him back, and Gabriel poured everything into the kiss; his anger at being injured, his shock at finding he cared for Sam, his delight that Sam felt the same way, and all the things he couldn’t say yet, all the ways he wanted to worship and adore the young man currently kissing the breath out of him.

Someone cleared his throat and Sam lifted his head, looking guilty, as Gabriel blinked and tried to regain his bearings.  Ash was looking at them, an amused smile on his face.  “I’d say get a room, but you guys are bunking with Dean and Cas, and I don’t reckon that’d go over too well with them.”

Sam slanted a look at Gabriel, who grinned at him, and shrugged.  “After all the ways the two of them have scarred me over the past two years, I’d say I’m due a little payback.  Lead the way to this room, Ash.  Gabe needs to rest before dinner.”

Ash led them into the small cabin and pointed to the bunk beds on the far end of the room. “Sorry, dudes, but it’s all I’ve got.”

“We’d have been fine with a pallet on the floor,” Sam told him as he settled Gabriel on the bed and pulled the pills from his pocket. Gabriel took what he was given obediently and laid back against the pillows with a grateful sigh.

“ _You_ might’ve been okay with that,” he told Sam, “but _I_ have standards.”

Sam smiled at him.  “Rest well,” he said. “We’ll be right outside, okay? If you need anything, just yell. I’ll hear you.”

Gabriel flapped a hand at him, closing his eyes.  “Go have your confab.  I’m not going anywhere.”

 

~~~

 

Sam waited until Gabriel was taking deep, even breaths before he left the room. Some part of him didn’t want to let the shorter man out of his sight, afraid of reliving the horror of the past few days again, but logic prevailed.  _He’s safe.  You’ll be right outside, you’ll hear him if he calls._

He joined the others grouped around the grill.  Dean had his arm slung around Castiel’s shoulders, the dark haired man leaning up against him, face peaceful as they watched Ash turn the meat on the fire.

Sam sat down next Castiel and stretched his legs out in front of him with a sigh.

“Gabe okay?” Dean said.

Sam nodded. “Resting.  Dean… I haven’t had a chance to tell you…”

“Save it,” Dean interrupted, and took a swig of beer.

“What Dean means to say, Sam,” Castiel said, “is that you are his brother and you would do the same for him, and he’s glad he could help.  Right, Dean?”

Dean shifted and scowled, but finally nodded.  “Yeah. I guess so.”

Sam didn’t fight the smile.  “Okay,” he said.

“So,” Ash said cheerfully, “what’re you guys running from?”

“Michael,” Sam said, staring into the flames.

Ash dropped the steak.  The look of dismay on his face was almost comical.  “You’re shitting me,” he said.

“I wish,” Dean said, and took another swallow of beer.  “Sam went and landed himself in a pickle, and like an idiot, I followed him in.”

Castiel elbowed him in the ribs but Sam lifted a hand before he could apologize for Dean’s thoughtlessness.

“He’s right, Cas, but thanks for trying.  It’s my fault you guys are here.”

“And you decided it’d be fun to drag _me_ into it?” Ash sputtered.  “Man, fuck this. I’m moving to the _moon._ ”

Sam sighed and put his head in his hands.

“Before you pack up for your lunar voyage,” Dean said, “we need paperwork. Specifically, papers to get us safely into Texas.”

Ash looked between him and Sam.  “Seriously? That’ll take several days if I start now.  You got that much time to burn?”

Dean shrugged.  “Don’t really have a choice.  But I don’t think Michael will expect us to head in this direction.  Especially after the shooting thing; he thinks you hate me. You’re the last person he’d expect me to turn to.”

“Lucky me,” Ash muttered, and flipped the steak.

Sam ate with an ear cocked toward the cabin, listening for sounds from Gabriel, but all was quiet.  Still, he found himself restless, unable to sit and listen to Dean and Ash reminiscing, and finally he excused himself to go to bed.

Gabriel was tossing and turning on the mattress when Sam slipped in the door, fingers clenching spasmodically on the blanket.  Sam moved closer and toed his shoes off soundlessly.

“No,” Gabriel whimpered, turning his head as if to avoid something coming toward him. “Please, no, I don’t… _no_!”  He sat bolt upright and Sam lunged forward and caught him just before he fell off the bed.

Gabriel clung to him, shaking, and Sam held him, crooning wordlessly and rubbing his back.

“I’m here,” he finally murmured.  “I’ve got you.”

It felt like an age before Gabriel’s grip loosened, but Sam didn’t move, supporting the shorter man’s weight until Gabriel took a shaky breath.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

Sam snorted. “Now who’s being an idiot? Scoot over, we’re not going to both fit unless we squeeze.”

Gabriel obeyed and Sam lay down.  Gabriel slotted himself in between Sam and the wall, his head on Sam’s chest, and Sam kissed the top of his head.

“Ash will start on the papers in the morning,” he said quietly.  “We’ll be on our way day after tomorrow, all goes as planned.”

“Does it ever?” Gabriel asked.  “Go as planned, I mean.”

“Well, I keep hoping,” Sam said, amused.  “Now go back to sleep.”

 

The sun was barely up when Sam woke in the morning.  Gabriel was still asleep, arm draped across Sam’s torso, and Sam lay quietly for a minute, enjoying the comfortable warmth, but finally his bladder asserted itself and he sighed and wriggled out from under Gabriel.

Dean and Castiel weren’t in the room when he tiptoed outside to the outhouse. _Off hunting for breakfast or having sex,_ Sam decided, rubbing his arms against the chill in the air.  _Possibly both._

He slipped back into bed and pushed his cold toes under the blankets, squeezing close to Gabriel and trying to suppress his shivers.

Gabriel stirred.  “Morning,” he murmured, rubbing his nose against Sam’s shoulder.

“Hi,” Sam whispered.  “Go back to sleep, it’s still early.”

Instead, Gabriel slid a hand under Sam’s t-shirt, splaying his hand across Sam’s ribs.

Sam froze as Gabriel lifted his head, golden eyes a little unsure.

“Is it… okay if I touch you?” he asked.

Sam pulled him in and kissed him fiercely.  “It’s so much more than okay, Gabe.  I just don’t want to rush you.”

Gabriel’s mouth quirked.  “We slept together two hours after meeting.  I think we’re past that point, don’t you?”

Sam lifted a shoulder as Gabriel’s hand began to roam.  “Yeah, but… things are different now.”

“Sam,” Gabriel whispered.

“Yes?” Sam murmured.

“Shut up,” Gabriel said, and Sam huffed a laugh that broke off into a moan when Gabriel found a nipple and squeezed, rolling it between his fingers.

Gabriel seemed content to explore, hand sliding across Sam’s chest, tracing the shape of his ribs under his skin, drifting up and mapping the contours of his collarbones, then down, following his treasure trail south to the waistband of his pants.

Sam shifted on the bed when Gabriel’s hand moved upward again and Gabriel pressed a kiss against his shoulder.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.  “Like a Greek fucking god.  I saw you in that bar, and I thought you were the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen.”

“ _Gabe_ ,” Sam whispered, and squeezed his eyes shut when Gabriel found his nipple again and tweaked it gently.

“Can’t believe I get to do this,” Gabriel said.  Sam lifted his arm and pulled Gabriel in against him, his head resting on Sam’s shoulder as his right hand continued to explore.

He seemed determined to memorize every inch of Sam’s skin above the waist, and soon Sam was squirming, half-hard and wanting desperately for those clever fingers to go lower.

But Gabriel ignored him, hand running up and down Sam’s arms and fingers, caressing his palms and laying feather-light kisses on each fingertip.

“You’re killing me,” Sam eventually gasped, and Gabriel’s lips curved in the dim light from the window.

“Good,” he said, but then finally, _finally_ his hand was moving downward, catching Sam’s waistband and tugging. Sam lifted his hips and helped him push the pants down and then Gabriel’s hand was on him, encircling his cock and giving it a smooth, firm stroke.

Sam’s hips bucked upward and he groaned.  Gabriel seemed to know exactly how to touch him, steady sweeps of his fist, his thumb gathering the pre-come already leaking from Sam’s tip to help the glide, and Sam closed his eyes and sank deeper into the mattress, letting Gabriel take control.

It was quiet in the room, broken by Sam’s ragged breathing and Gabriel’s quiet hums of encouragement.

“Want you,” Sam whimpered, and Gabriel’s hand tightened briefly.

“You have me,” he promised.  “Always.”

The familiar tension was gathering in the pit of Sam’s stomach and he gasped as Gabriel twisted his wrist on an upstroke, stifling his cry with the back of his wrist.

“Don’t hide it,” Gabriel whispered.  “I want to see it, Sam, let me see what you look like when you come.”

Every muscle in Sam’s body locked up and his back arched, mouth falling open in a soundless sob as he came in hot throbs over Gabriel’s hand.  Gabriel peppered his skin with kisses, murmuring endearments as he eased Sam through it.

“So beautiful, Sam, my God, you’re so gorgeous… the things I want to do… you don’t know what you do to me…”

Sam came back to himself slowly, his breathing still harsh in his throat, spent and warm and euphoric.  He turned his head and met Gabriel’s eyes, blinking slowly.

“Welcome back,” Gabriel said, smiling.  “How are you feeling?”

Sam stretched, lazy and indulgent.  “Feel good. Gonna let me return the favor?”

Gabriel shook his head and kissed him.  “Later.”

“You need your pills and you probably need the bathroom something fierce,” Sam said suddenly.  “Shit, I’m sorry -”

Gabriel kissed him again.  “Shut up. We’ll do that in a minute. Right now I’m enjoying this.”

“Okay,” Sam murmured, and pulled him close.  “Thank you.”

Gabriel’s arm tightened around his waist and they lay in peaceful silence in the still room.

 

The next two days were surprisingly restful.  Ash worked on the papers, Dean and Castiel spent most of the time wrapped around each other, and Sam found himself with nothing to do except take care of Gabriel, something he was more than willing to do.

The second day, Ash came back from a run into town for supplies, locked himself away for several hours and that evening finally declared himself satisfied with his handiwork.  “This’d fool the governor himself,” he said, holding up the papers for Castiel to scrutinize.

Castiel examined them closely and finally nodded.  “Excellent work as usual, Ash,” he said, handing the documents to Dean.

They were gathered around the campfire that evening, beers in hand. Ash was tense, jumpy in a way that he hadn’t been before, and it made Sam nervous.

“Something eating you?” he finally asked.

Ash jerked his head up from his examination of the beer bottle in his hands and shrugged. “Nah, man, it’s just… well, I saw Garth in town.”

Dean straightened. “ _Garth’s_ in town?”

“Garth is a hunter we’ve worked with before,” Sam told Gabriel quietly.

“Does he know we’re here?” Dean was demanding.

“No, man, I’m not stupid,” Ash protested.  “But he said Michael’s in a lather and on the move.  Seriously pissed off, issued a bounty on y’all’s heads. Dead or alive, he don’t care, but premium paid for alive.”

“So he can kill us himself,” Dean muttered.  “We gotta go.  Now.  Tonight.”

“Dean, wait,” Castiel said.  “The borders are closed, you know that.  We can’t go until morning in any case.”

Gabriel was tense in the circle of Sam’s arm, but he said nothing, listening to the discussion quietly.

“First thing tomorrow, then,” Dean snapped.  “Ash, you should find somewhere safe to go for awhile, just in case Michael swings through here.”

“Got a cousin up north I’ve been meaning to visit,” Ash said amiably. “Maybe I’ll go see him for awhile, till shit dies down.”

 

Gabriel refused to be carried to bed, insisting on using his crutches. Sam stayed next to him until Gabriel rolled his eyes and tripped him when he wasn’t looking.

“I’m _fine,_ Sam,” he said. “Go talk to Dean about trip stuff, I’ll see you inside.”

He was already asleep when Sam crawled into bed, rolling over to drape a sleep-heavy arm over Sam’s waist, and Sam fell asleep quickly, listening to his and Dean and Castiel’s quiet breathing.

Gabriel woke him by sitting up in the early hours of the morning.

“Sorry,” he whispered.  “Need the bathroom.”

“I’ll take you,” Sam said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Don’t be stupid,” Gabriel said, giving him a quick kiss to ease the sting. “I’ve got my crutches. Go back to sleep. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Yawning, Sam lay down without arguing.

He woke up in the morning with Dean’s hand on his shoulder.

“Dude, where’s Gabe?”


	9. Chapter 9

Sam nearly fell out of bed scrambling to his feet.  “ _Gabe_?”

“He’s not in the outhouse or anywhere around the cabin,” Dean said, his eyes worried. “Cas is out looking in case he got lost in the woods or something, but….”

“Oh God,” Sam whispered, covering his mouth.  “He’s gone.”

“Okay,” Dean said, gripping his arm.  “Don’t panic. We’ll find him.”

“No, Dean, you don’t understand,” Sam said.  “He’s _gone._   He’s giving us a chance to be free of Michael. He figures with him out of the picture, Michael won’t want us anymore.”

Dean frowned. “Well, that’s just… dumb. It’s _Michael._ He’s never going to stop coming, Gabe or not.  We disrespected him.”

“I know,” Sam said.  His hands were trembling, he noted distantly.  “I _know._   But Gabe doesn’t. And, Dean, what if….” He broke off, trying to breathe.  “What if he decided to do something stupid?”

“Stupider than running away?” Dean asked.  He blinked.  “Oh. _Oh._ You mean….”

“He still has the knife I gave him,” Sam whispered numbly.

“No,” Dean said, tightening his grip.  “ _No,_ Sam, he wouldn’t. He _wouldn’t._ ”

Sam lifted tortured eyes to him.  “How do you know?” he said.

“I just know,” Dean said helplessly.  “It’s… it’s Gabe, man, he wouldn’t do that.  Not to you and not to himself.  Just… be cool. How far could a one-legged man with broken ribs get, in any case?”

Pretty damn far, it turned out.

 

Gabriel’s papers and Ash’s car were both missing, they discovered quickly, and Ash turned the air blue with curses over that for a while as they piled into Sam’s truck.

“My goddamn _car,_ man? He better not put a scratch on it, I’m telling you.  Do you _know_ how long I’ve spent restoring that girl? I can’t believe he took my car… and how’s he even _driving_ it, anyway -”

“Shut the fuck up, man,” Dean finally snapped when Sam said nothing, huddled against the door of the truck and staring out the window.  “Sam, you figure he went into Shreveport?”

Sam nodded dully.  “Only thing that makes sense.  He might be able to find someone who’d give him a lift.  He’s not going to be able to drive for long without getting exhausted.”

Ash opened his mouth and Dean pointed at him in the mirror.  “Not another goddamn word about your goddamn car or I’ll take a sledgehammer to it my own fucking self when we find it, you hear me?”

Ash’s mouth snapped shut and he scowled but stayed silent.

Sam couldn’t stop watching the trees as they drove.  A brown glint in the shadows made him shout and Dean slammed on the brakes so that Sam could hurl himself out of the cab and investigate. His shoulders slumped with relief when he realized it was just a log, the light glancing off its bark that had fooled him.

Dean drove as quickly as he dared and they were crossing the Shreveport city limits within the hour.

“Right,” Dean said, finding an empty parking lot near the marketplace. “Spread out.  Meet back here in two hours, with or without him. Sam.  Sam, look at me.”

Sam lifted his eyes and Dean took him by the shoulders.  “We’ll find him, little brother.  Okay?  We’ll find him and he’ll be okay.”

Sam’s mouth twisted but he nodded and they dispersed quickly, disappearing into the crowd.  Sam stood for a minute, thinking hard.  Where would he go if he were Gabriel?  Gabriel was an extrovert; he’d find people.  The more the merrier seemed to be his motto, and would significantly increase his chances of finding someone that would give him a ride.

Sam turned in a circle slowly.  The market was a big place, covered in vendors setting up shop for the day, and there were several bars and restaurants ringing the large open space.

Sam struck out with the first few restaurants but finally got lucky at a small café tucked off to the side.  It was just opening for business, and the owner didn’t seem interested in talking, but finally admitted to seeing a man on crutches earlier.

“He seemed in a hurry,” the older man said, scratching his bald spot. “Wanted to know if there were any convoys heading out soon.  I told him where to look and he thanked me and left.”

“Where did he go?” Sam asked urgently.

The man tilted his head and gave Sam a suspicious look.  “Why do you want to know?”

Sam thought fast.  “He’s a deserter,” he said. “We served together. There’s a bounty on his head, and I’m trying to find him before the bounty hunters do.  You’d be doing me a real favor.”

The man examined his face for a long moment and finally nodded.  “I sent him to Gupta, over by the truckyards. He’s got a shipment leaving soon, I thought maybe your buddy’d be able to hitch a ride with him.”

“Thank you,” Sam said, shaking his hand.  “You may have just saved his life.”  He took off at a run, weaving around the people starting to fill the pavements, and found the truckyards already bustling.

He stopped the first person he saw and asked for Gupta and was directed to the front offices. Inside, a small-framed man looked him over from head to toe. 

“Why do you ask?” he said in a heavy accent.

Sam took a deep breath and repeated his story.  Something told him this man wasn’t going to be as easy to convince, and sure enough, Gupta folded his arms and lifted an eyebrow.

“Let me see some proof,” he said flatly.

Sam pulled his papers out, praying Ash had done his job properly, and waited with bated breath as Gupta examined them.

“I see nothing here about your service,” he finally said.

“Well no,” Sam said.  “You wouldn’t. Those are my travel papers, not my military ones.”  He forced himself to stand still, easy and relaxed as if he wasn’t about to shatter into a million pieces from worry.  _Gabe Gabe Gabe,_ his thoughts circled endlessly.

Gupta pursed his lips and came to a decision, nodding sharply.  “He’s in the third truck in the second convoy, due to roll out in a few minutes.”

Sam thought he might collapse from sheer relief.  “ _Thank you,_ ” he said, resisting the urge to hug the smaller man.  “Thank you so much.”

“Get out of here,” Gupta said, turning back to his paperwork.  “And he’s not getting a refund!” he called after Sam’s running form.

Sam found the convoys easily, lined up in neat rows, and headed for the right truck, his heart in his throat.  _Please be in there, please be safe, please Gabe…_

He lifted the flap and several startled faces peered back at him, blinking in the sudden light.

“Um,” he said diffidently.  “Looking for a man. About this tall, brown hair….”

“ _Sam_?”

Sam sagged with relief as Gabriel pushed himself upright, balancing on his crutches, and began making his laborious way to the rear of the truck.

“Oh thank God,” Sam said.  He reached up but Gabriel jerked away.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Sam?” he demanded, staring down at him.

Sam ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the interested onlookers. “Do we… do we have to do it here?”

“We’re about to leave,” Gabriel said.  “I get out, I may lose my place.”

“If you’re going, I’m going with you,” Sam said.  “I can’t stop you from leaving, but you can’t stop me from coming with you.”

Gabriel glared at him and held out a hand.  Sam took it and helped him down, dropping the flap on the disappointed passengers, and Gabriel headed for the nearest empty corner, free of witnesses, Sam close on his heels.

Once there, he wheeled and poked Sam in the chest, hard.  Sam took a step back, rubbing the spot, startled.

“What are you _doing_ here?” Gabriel repeated.

“You’re angry,” Sam said.  “Why are you angry?”

“Because you’re _stupid_!” Gabriel shouted. “I left so you’d have a fighting chance, you giant _ape,_ and instead of taking it, you come _looking_ for me? Seriously, Sam, how thick _is_ your skull, I’m genuinely curious!”

Sam was suddenly furious.  “I’m not stupid,” he said flatly. “I’m in love with you. Although at this moment, I’m thinking I might be fairly stupid _because_ I’m in love with you.”  He turned on his heel and stalked away, seething, as Gabriel’s mouth fell open in shock. Then he spun and came back to where Gabriel was frozen, still staring at him.  “For your information, Michael is the most coldblooded bastard you’ll ever meet.  It doesn’t matter whether you’re with us or not; he’s never going to stop.  _Your_ only chance is if you stay with us, and I am by God not going to let you go haring off to God knows where just to give me a ‘fighting chance’, Gabe – don’t you get it? Without you, I don’t _want_ a fighting chance!  I don’t want anything that doesn’t have you by my side!”

He ran shaking hands through his hair.  Gabriel was utterly still.

“Maybe you’re right,” Sam said, suddenly defeated.  “Maybe you should just go.  Since you don’t want to be with me, then -”

Gabriel dropped his crutches and grabbed Sam’s jacket, hauling him in close until they were nearly nose to nose.

“Don’t you _dare_ say I don’t want to be with you,” Gabriel hissed.  “I did this _for_ you, dammit! Nothing is worth losing you, Sam, _nothing -”_

Sam cut him off with a kiss, bruising and frantic, and Gabriel gasped and then was kissing him back just as desperately, twining his arms around Sam’s neck and going up on tiptoe.

There were tears on Sam’s face, he knew, but he didn’t care.  He bent and picked Gabriel up, bracing the shorter man’s back against the wall and deepening the kiss, tongues sliding together with wild urgency.

When they broke for air, Sam rested his forehead against Gabriel’s.

“I love you,” he whispered.  “Don’t you _ever_ do something like this again.”

Gabriel’s arms tightened.  “I won’t.”

“Promise me,” Sam insisted, looking him in the eyes.  “I thought you were _dead,_ Gabe, I thought you’d killed yourself to save me.  I need to hear it, please, Gabe, just… I need to hear it.”

Gabriel cupped Sam’s face, expression utterly serious.  “I thought about it, I’m not going to lie to you. But I… I couldn’t. When it came down to it, I couldn’t do that to you.  And… I will never leave you again, Sam.  I promise.”

Sam closed his eyes and took a shaky breath.  “Okay.  Okay, then. Let’s get out of here.”

 

It took awhile to get back to the truck.  Gabriel refused to let Sam flag a car down and insisted on walking.

“I walked down here, I can walk back,” he said, his jaw set.

Sam kept pace beside him but the second time Gabriel’s leg buckled, Sam muttered a curse and swept him into his arms.

Gabriel squawked and flailed, caught off-guard.

“Stop _fighting,_ ” Sam hissed, lengthening his stride.  “People will think I’m abducting you or something.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” Gabriel said, but he folded his hands over the crutches in his lap and adopted a serene expression that made Sam snort.

“You look like you’re trying to be the Dalai Lama,” Sam said. 

“Mostly I’m thinking about the things I’m going to do the next time I get you naked,” Gabriel said, and Sam tripped over his own feet, just managing to catch himself before they went sprawling.

“You can’t _say_ things like that!” Sam sputtered, but Gabriel was laughing too hard to answer.

“Your _face_!” he finally got out.

Sam rolled his eyes, fighting the smile.  “You’re impossible.”

“Well, duh,” Gabriel said, grinning.  “You’re just now figuring this out?”

The others were waiting at the truck when they got there, identical worried expressions melting into combined relief and anger when they saw Gabriel in Sam’s arms.

“Don’t you _ever_ do something that stupid again!” Dean snarled.

“Sam’s already given me the lecture,” Gabriel said, “so save it. Unless you’re planning on kissing me to shut me up too, in which case we can discuss it.”  He caught a glimpse of Sam’s expression and held up his hands. “I’m _kidding_!Jeez, no sense of humor.”

Ash pushed forward.  “Where’s my car, man? You’d better not have put a scratch on her.”

“Relax, your car is fine,” Gabriel said wearily.  “I left it in the square.  I was attracting too much attention with it.”

Ash took off without another word and Sam helped Gabriel into the truck.

“Now that you’re done with your stupid stunt, think we can go to Texas?” Dean asked as he started the engine.

 

In the end, they decided to save time and pick up the supplies they needed from the market before they went back to Ash’s to get their gear. Ash went ahead of them in his car, cheerfully telling them to take their time.

“I swear he loves that damn car more than he does beer, and that’s saying something,” Dean muttered.

Sam waited with Gabriel in the truck, unwilling to let him out of his sight again.

“I _told_ you I wouldn’t leave again,” Gabriel protested, but Sam just folded his arms and didn’t budge.

“You’re tired and you can’t help us do the shopping we need, so you’re staying here, which means I’m staying here too,” he said.

Gabriel sighed.  “The worst part is you’re sitting right there and I can’t kiss you like I want to.”

“I know,” Sam agreed.  “But we can discuss it tonight.  Cas and Dean will sleep in their tent and you and I will have the back of the truck all to ourselves. I’ll be at your mercy.”

A slow smile spread across Gabriel’s face.  “I like the sound of that,” he said.  “ _Completely_ at my mercy?”

“Utterly helpless,” Sam said.  “You can have your wicked way with me all you want.  Unable to resist.”

Gabriel shifted on the bench.  “Dammit, now I’m hard,” he complained.  “This is uncomfortable and it’s all _your_ fault.”

Sam just grinned at him and leaned his head back against the headrest.

 

Dean and Castiel eventually showed back up, laden with packages, and Sam jumped out to help them stow the paper-wrapped parcels in the back of the truck.

“He doing okay?” Dean asked.

Sam glanced toward the cab.  “He’s scared. Guilty, for some stupid reason. But he’s okay, I think.”

“Good,” Dean said, and clapped him on the arm.  “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

It was still when they got back to Ash’s, no sign of the mullet anywhere.

“His car’s here,” Castiel said, brow furrowed.

“Maybe he’s inside?” Dean suggested.

“On a day like this?” Sam said.  “It’s _Ash._   He’d be outside enjoying the weather and getting drunk no matter what time of day it is.”

They got out, but nothing seemed out of place.  Still, the tiny hairs on the back of Sam’s neck were pricking up, and he couldn’t stop the uneasy roll of his shoulders.

He went around the truck and helped Gabriel out, sliding him into his arms.

“I can walk,” Gabriel protested.

“Be quiet,” Sam said.  “Dean… grab my gun?”

Dean pulled it from its holster on Sam’s hip and handed it to Gabriel butt-first.

“Just… in case,” Sam said.  He remembered the last time he’d said that and had to stifle the sudden surge of fear.

“Squishing… me…,” Gabriel gasped, and Sam loosened his grasp.

“Sorry,” he said.

Dean had his gun out, Castiel gripping his rifle behind him, one hand lightly on his shoulder to keep Dean aware of his location.

“He’s gonna be taking a nap or something and we’re all going to look like idiots,” Gabriel muttered.

There was only one door to the cabin.  Dean reached for the handle and it swung open under his touch.  Ash was kneeling on the floor, hands tied behind his back and a gag shoved in his mouth, eyes wild.  Michael stood behind him, a small smile playing on his lips and a long knife held to Ash’s throat.

“Hello boys,” he said gently.  “Please, come in.”

Sam took a quick step back and froze as an unmistakable gun muzzle prodded him in the kidneys.  He glanced over his shoulder at Raf’s inscrutable face. 

Raf gestured with his chin – _inside –_ and Sam obeyed numbly, mind racing.  Gabriel was utterly still in his arms, every muscle tense.

 _Breathe,_ Sam told himself.

Michael pointed at the floor.  “Put him down there, Sam, and kneel next to him.  Raf, take their weapons and watch the door.”

The dark-eyed man moved to obey, and Dean snarled, gripping his gun tightly. Castiel put a hand on his arm.

“Dean,” he said simply, and Dean sighed and let go of the weapon.

“Adorable,” Michael said.  He didn’t seem fazed by Dean’s filthy look.

Sam knelt, setting Gabriel gently on the ground, and Raf patted him down, relieving him of his own gun.  He turned to Gabriel next, who didn’t move as he was searched quickly and efficiently.

He stood up, hands empty, and nodded to Michael.  “He’s clean,” he said.

“I wanted to bring you back to camp, make an example of you there,” Michael said, “but Raf pointed out that we had to muster the troops for the strike on New Orleans, that most of the camp is gone and will be for awhile.  No point in making an example when there’s no one to see it, and besides, I don’t like the idea of letting you live until we get back there.  Way too many chances for you to escape.  So only part of you will be going home with us.”

Sam swallowed hard, hands twitching on his thighs.

“Raf, tie him and the others up,” Michael said.  “Leave Gabriel free, it’s not like he’s going anywhere.”

There was a stifled yelp from Dean as Raf dragged his hands behind his back and Castiel growled, shifting position.

“Easy there, Castiel,” Michael said warningly.  “Don’t make me shoot you yet.  There’s an order this has to go in, but I’ll change it around if you force me to. But first, Gabriel and I need to talk.”

He dragged Gabriel upright by his shirt and shoved him into a chair. Gabriel’s eyes were wide, his breath coming in sharp pants, and Sam stifled a sob.  _Gabe._

Gabriel’s terrified gaze landed on Sam and he straightened, holding Sam’s eyes, and took a deep breath.  “Get it over with,” he said, looking up at Michael, who arched an eyebrow.

“So eager,” he said.

“Mostly just bored of the theatrics,” Gabriel said. 

“Maybe this will get your attention then,” Michael said, and stabbed him in the stomach.

“ _Gabe_! _”_ Sam screamed, wrenching against his bonds.

Gabriel doubled over as Michael pulled the blade out and stepped back. He clutched his abdomen, a dark stain spreading across the cloth of his shirt.

“ _You bastard_! _”_ Sam sobbed, and Michael spared him a disdainful look, wiping the bloody blade against his thigh.

“He’s not going to die yet,” he said.  “Not until he gives me some answers.”

Gabriel coughed and spat blood on Michael’s foot.  “Kill me already,” he gasped.  “This is… ridiculous.”

Sam couldn’t see through his tears.

“Tell me if they know we’re coming,” Michael said.

Gabriel laughed, a short, incredulous bark that had him hunching and gripping his stomach harder.  His hands were covered in blood, his life pumping through his fingers, and Sam was helpless, bound and powerless and he’d never hated himself so much in his life as he did in that crystallized moment, kneeling on the hard floor and watching the man he loved bleed out in front of him.

“Can’t tell you what I… don’t know,” Gabriel whispered.

“How many troops are in Lafayette?” Michael asked.

“A lot,” Gabriel managed, and more blood slid down his chin, dripping with slow finality onto his shirt.

Raf moved, pacing behind the men kneeling on the floor, but Sam didn’t look back to see what he was doing, riveted on Gabriel sprawled in the chair, one hand still on his stomach and the other bracing himself on the seat.

“How many are deployed in a threat on the capital?” Michael asked.

Gabriel just blinked, his eyes going unfocused, dazed.

“ _Tell me,_ ” Michael hissed. He loomed over the smaller man, clutching his shirt and hauling him upright.  “Answer me, damn you!” he roared.  “How many?”

Gabriel smiled up at him, his mouth bloody.  “Never… saw the value of taking a stand,” he managed.

Michael’s brow creased.  “What?”

Gabriel lifted a shoulder, wincing.  “Just ends up… bloody,” he said.  “No… point.” His eyes slid to Sam. “What I… used to think. Changed… my mind, recently. Had it changed for me… more like.”

Michael opened his mouth to speak as Raf hissed a sharp breath.  " _Enough_ ," Raf growled, and Sam felt a sharp blade slicing through his bonds.  His hands fell free and he lost his balance, tipping forward and catching himself. He looked up to see Michael whip his head around to see what had happened.  Realization and fury began to dawn on his face and Gabriel wrenched the knife from Michael’s hand and stabbed him in the throat.

Michael staggered backward, hands trying vainly to stop the arterial flood, and sat down hard.  Sam lunged forward in the same moment, pulling Gabriel out of the chair and across the cabin, out of the way.

“Sam,” Gabriel whispered, and coughed wetly.

“Hang on, baby, just hang on,” Sam said frantically.  He pulled Gabriel’s t-shirt up and covered the stab wound with both hands, pressing hard.  “Gotta stop the bleeding, it’s gonna be okay, you hear me?  Just hang on for me, Gabe, _please._ ”

Gabriel managed to bring a hand up to cover Sam’s.  His eyes were closing but he forced them open, trying to focus on Sam’s face. Sam bit back a sob and pressed harder.

“It’s okay, Sam,” Gabriel murmured.  “Glad… I met you…”

“ _No,_ ” Sam choked.  “ _No,_ Gabe, don’t you leave me, don’t you fucking leave me you _promised don’t you leave me_ …” He gathered Gabriel’s unresisting form into his arms and buried his face in the shorter man’s throat.  “ _You_ _promised_ ,” he sobbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for my daughter's best friend, who complained that I left the last chapter on a cliffhanger.
> 
> So... I added an even _worse_ cliffhanger!
> 
> I am a terrible person and I've made my peace with that.


	10. Chapter 10

“I still can’t believe I didn’t tell you I loved you when I thought I was dead,” Gabriel complained. 

Sam rolled his eyes, brushing Gabriel’s hair back from his forehead. Gabriel’s head was in Sam’s lap, his knee bent and his fingers drumming a rhythm out against his thigh. Castiel and Dean were outside with Ash, cooking breakfast over the campfire as the sun came up.

“We’ve been over this,” Sam said.  “I know you love me.  You don’t have to say it.”

Gabriel twisted his head and looked at him from upside down, eyes almost crossed trying to focus on his face.  Sam smiled down at him.

“Still,” Gabriel said.  “My dramatic death scene, and I _don’t_ tell you how I feel? Pitiful.  Really.”

Sam leaned over and kissed him, slow and lingering.  “You told me how you feel,” he murmured.  “Every day, in a thousand different ways. You tell me all the time.  I'm just glad Cas was able to stop the bleeding so quickly.”

"Yeah, lucky me, the torturing psychopath deliberately missed my vital organs," Gabriel grumbled.  He heaved a sigh.  “When do I get to have solid food again?  I _do_ love you but I’m getting really sick of grits.”

“Another week,” Sam said.  “By then you’ll be able to travel and we can head back to the camp.  If… you want to?”

Gabriel nodded.  “Without the previously mentioned psycho torturing bastard there, I’m good with that.  I want to get to know your friends.  When’s Raf going back?”

“He left before you woke up this morning,” Sam said, yawning.  “Said he wants to make sure everyone understands what went down, that Michael had lost his grip on reality and was out of control.”

“You think he’ll have problems getting people to accept that?”

“As scared as everyone was of Michael?” Sam said.  “I doubt it.”  He splayed his hand on Gabriel’s chest, delighting in the solid feel of the flesh and bone beneath his fingers, still not completely able to believe that Gabriel was alive, that he hadn’t bled out on Ash’s floor and Sam wasn’t dreaming right now.

Gabriel covered his hand and squeezed.  “It’s been three days,” he said.  “I’m bored out of my _mind._   And you won’t even distract me with sex.  I call that unfair.”

Sam huffed a laugh and kissed him again.  “Soon,” he promised.  “Let’s just get you healed, okay?  I’m still afraid to _touch_ you right now.”

Gabriel’s hand tightened on his.  “Better not _stop_ touching me,” he growled. “Or I’ll hunt you down and beat you with a crutch.”

Sam smiled down at him.  “Never,” he promised.


	11. Chapter 11

A little girl shrieked and Gabriel jumped.  Sam’s arm tightened around him.

“Okay there?”

Gabriel rubbed his ear.  “Your daughter has some  _lungs_ on her, I’ll give her that.”

“Takes after her mother,” Sam said, grinning.  “You should have heard Jo when I pushed her into the creek when we were twelve. I didn’t know she  _knew_ those words!”

Gabriel snickered and leaned against Sam’s reassuring bulk.  The night was drawing in and the temperatures were dropping. On the other side of the huge campfire, Dean was leaning back between Castiel’s open legs, head on Castiel’s chest.

“You need to learn how to make marshmallows, Cas,” Dean said, staring at the flames. “I wish we still had marshmallows.”

Castiel kissed the top of his head.  “I will endeavor to learn for you, Dean, if you can find me some gelatin.”

“I’ll do my damnedest,” Dean said.

Gabriel glanced to his right.  Jo was smiling at him, her arm around Ellie’s waist.  The little blonde girl was staring at Gabriel in unabashed curiosity.

Gabriel leaned a little closer to Sam’s ear.  “It’s been a month, Sam, when is she going to stop staring at my lack of leg?”

Sam snorted. “She’s two, dude. Give her a break.”

Gabriel crossed his eyes at Ellie and her own eyes widened.  She popped two fingers in her mouth and giggled, and Gabriel grinned at her.

He liked this, he realized.  He liked Sam’s friends, he liked Sam’s home, he even liked Raf in a distant “he’s-still-terrifying” way.  He felt comfortable there, in a way that he never had as a soldier.

“So do Dean or Cas have any kids?” he asked Sam.

“Yeah,” Sam said.  “Dean’s got a ten year old son named Ben with a girl named Lisa and a daughter named Emma. Her mom was a soldier; she died a couple of years ago.  Lisa’s raising them both.”

“What about Cas?”

“Daughter named Rachel,” Sam said.  “She’s… seven now?  Meg, her mother, and Cas are still really close, and I think he’s going to father her second child too.”

Gabriel hummed thoughtfully and snuggled in a little closer.

“Cold?” Sam asked, amusement and affection in his voice.

“Little bit,” Gabriel admitted.  “Think we could go home soon?”

“Soon,” Sam said.  “Raf’s about to make his announcement.”

As if on cue, Raf stood up and the quiet hum of voices hushed.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” Raf said, his voice pitched to carry. “As you all know, there’s been a change in regime and a new addition to our camp.  I know some of you weren’t too happy about having Gabriel here, but I have personally witnessed his dedication to Sam firsthand and I can assure you all, you have nothing to fear from him.

“There will be some changes in how things are run around here, but we’ll get to that. Right now, I want you all to appreciate each other, celebrate the evening and your families.  If anyone has any questions, I am always available to speak to you.”

He sat down and Gabriel shivered.  Raf had been nothing but welcoming to him, but Gabriel was ready to get away from all the people currently sneaking looks at him from around the fire.

“I think it’s time to go,” Sam said.  He stood up, picked up Gabriel’s crutches and then pulled Gabriel upright.

Gabriel reached for the crutches but Sam held them out of reach. “Nah, I’m not feeling it,” he said, eyes dancing.

Gabriel glared at him and Sam leaned down and swept him up into his arms. Gabriel gasped and clutched at Sam’s neck, suddenly airborne, as Sam started walking.

“Did you really have to pick the farthest cabin out?” Gabriel said as Sam made his way through the trees.

Sam grinned down at him.  “You’ll thank me.”

“Why’s that?” Gabriel asked, suspicious.

Sam bent his head as if imparting a secret.  “Because I don’t think you want anyone to hear the way I’m going to make you scream tonight.”

Gabriel gulped.  They hadn’t done anything more than the occasional handjob for the past month.  Sam had been insistent on waiting for Gabriel to heal, no matter how much Gabriel had sworn that he was feeling much better Sam, please to be ravishing him already.

“Walk faster,” Gabriel said, and Sam laughed. 

“I mean it,” Gabriel insisted.  “ _Walk faster_.”

Sam’s teeth flashed white in the darkness.  “If I trip and fall carrying you, no sex will be happening tonight. Patience.”

Gabriel scowled but kept silent.

Soon enough, Sam was on the path to his house –  _their_ house, Gabriel amended with a leap of his heart.  And then Sam was up the steps and pushing the door open and Gabriel was dropping the crutches on the floor and Sam was kissing him,  _finally,_ feeling his way through the dark living room.

Jedi startled upright with a yip when they burst in.

“Down, girl,” Gabriel said, and she put her head back on her paws.

Sam found the door to the bedroom more through sheer luck than anything else, fumbling blindly for the handle as Gabe devoured his mouth, hungry for all of Sam, wanting to drown in him, to sink into his depths and be covered with him.

He pulled away briefly as Sam reached the bed and lowered Gabriel to it gently.

Gabriel reached up and cupped Sam’s face in both hands.  “I love you,” he whispered.

Sam’s eyes softened.  “I love you too. Get naked already.”

Gabriel obeyed.  He didn’t get stuck in his shirt this time, he noted with distant pride.  Sam was still standing, pulling his clothes off, and the moonlight struck his pale form, limning him in silver.

Gabriel swallowed hard and held out a hand.  “Come here.”

Sam crawled onto the bed, covering Gabriel’s body with his own.  Gabriel was already half-hard from sheer anticipation and he bucked up against Sam’s groin with a moan.

“Easy,” Sam murmured.  “Gonna take my time with you. Been wanting to do this right for so long, Gabe.”  He lowered his head and kissed Gabriel again, deep and sweet, and Gabriel sighed, relaxing.

Sam’s hands slid down Gabriel’s arms and caught his wrists, lifting them above his head and pinning them to the mattress.

Gabriel tugged experimentally but they didn’t budge.  Sam’s eyes creased with amusement. 

“Told you I was gonna take my time,” he said, and bent to his work. 

He explored Gabriel’s body with lips and tongue, caressing and kissing every inch of his torso, lavishing wordless praise upon him until Gabriel was writhing, still pinned and desperate to touch back, to feel Sam’s soft skin under his fingers.

“ _Please_ ,” he whispered.

Sam’s head lifted.  “Not yet,” he said. “I’m not done.” He moved down the bed a little and Gabriel nearly swallowed his tongue because now he was nosing at Gabriel’s cock, tongue darting out in teasing tastes, swiping the tip over the head and Gabriel whimpered, wanting more of that wet heat.

Without warning, Sam let go and swallowed him down and Gabriel shouted in shock, hands flying to Sam’s head as Sam began to move, cheeks hollowing as he sucked. Gabriel’s fingers threaded through Sam’s hair, gripping without forcing, and Sam hummed happily, making Gabriel’s hips buck again.

All too soon he felt the familiar tension gathering in his belly and he tugged on Sam’s head.  “Stop, Sam,  _stop._ ”

Sam looked up, worried.  “What’s wrong?”

Gabriel couldn’t meet his eyes.  “I want you… wanna come with you inside me.  Is that… okay?”

Sam’s eyes heated and he swarmed up Gabriel’s body to kiss him thoroughly all over again. “So much more than okay,” he whispered between kisses.  He leaned over and fished in the bedside drawer, coming up with a small tub of Vaseline with a triumphant grin.

“You have no idea what I went through to get hold of this,” he told Gabriel. “So you’d better appreciate it.”

“Oh, I think I will,” Gabriel said.  He waited but Sam didn’t move, just staring at him in what looked like awe. “Before we die of old age, Winchester,” Gabriel prompted, and Sam blinked.

“Sorry,” he said.  “You’re just… you’re so gorgeous.  I can’t believe you’re here, that you’re alive, that you’re  _with_  me.”  He dropped his head and planted a kiss on Gabriel’s stomach, directly over the still healing scar from Michael’s knife.

Gabriel rolled his eyes.  “Introspective later, Sam. Fucking,  _now._ ”

Sam snorted a laugh. “Such a romantic,” he teased, but he moved down to kneel between Gabriel’s splayed legs.

One slippery finger nudged inside and Gabriel gasped, his body fighting the intrusion.

“You’ve done this before, right?” Sam asked.

“Been…  _years,_ ” Gabriel managed. Sam’s long finger was slowly moving in and out in a steady glide and it was already beginning to feel amazing.

“More,” Gabriel whispered.

Sam obeyed, sliding in a second finger alongside the first, and Gabriel groaned, gathering handfuls of the bedspread.

“You okay?” Sam murmured, voice ragged.

“Better than,” Gabriel gasped.  “Keep… going.”

Sam chuckled and picked up the pace.  Gabriel writhed, desperate, his neglected cock leaking pre-come onto his stomach. Sam added a third finger and Gabriel choked back a shout as Sam crooked them upwards  _just so_  and sparks ignited behind Gabriel’s eyes.

“I think I found it,” Sam said, and Gabriel would have rolled his eyes if he’d had that much muscle control.

All too soon Gabriel was hungry for more.  “Please, Sam,” he begged.

“Please what?”

“Need… you,” Gabriel said, eyes rolling back as Sam’s fingers found his prostate again, and then again.  “ _Please._ ”

Sam pulled out and got to his knees, shuffling into position.  Gabriel took a deep breath as Sam slicked himself up and slowly began to press inside.

“Tell me… if it’s too much,” Sam gasped, his arms trembling with his attempt to keep the pace slow.

Gabriel was incapable of speech.  He was filled to overflowing, feeling as if he was going to burst, and Sam  _kept going,_  sliding further and further inside and Gabriel was going to  _die_ of sheer ecstasy, he thought dimly, nothing could ever compare to this feeling, there was nothing else like it in the world.

Sam bottomed out with a groan, his head hanging, and Gabriel clutched blindly at his arms, trying to ground himself. 

“You okay?” Sam whispered.

Gabriel could only nod.  He pulled on Sam’s arms –  _move_ – and Sam moaned and obeyed, withdrawing almost as slowly as he’d gone in.

“Come on,” Gabriel growled.  “Stop fucking teasing me and  _fuck me_.”

Sam gritted his teeth and slammed home and Gabriel’s back arched, more pre-come blurting from his cock with every thrust of Sam’s hips.

“ _Yes,_ ” he sobbed, running his hands mindlessly up and down Sam’s arms.  “Yes, Sam, God yes, fucking  _finally,_ ” over and over until it devolved into wordless moans as Sam changed his angle and  _there_ , oh God there, the head of Sam’s cock was dragging over Gabriel’s prostate and it wasn’t sparks behind Gabriel’s eyes now, it was an entire fireworks show.

Heat began to coil around the base of his spine, tendrils spreading outward. Sam wrapped one huge hand around Gabriel’s cock and stroked once, twice, and Gabriel came up off the bed with a sob as he spilled over Sam’s hand in helpless throbs, pleasure rocketing through every nerve ending.

Sam held him, kissing his face and neck, until Gabriel collapsed backward onto the bed, Sam’s hips still moving restlessly.  “Is it… Gabe, can I….”

“Yes,” Gabriel said.  “God yes,  _do it,_  Sam.”

Sam began to thrust again and Gabriel pulled him down into a kiss. Their tongues slid together and Gabriel whimpered, cupping Sam’s face, mapping his mouth,  _loving_ him with a desperate urgency that Sam matched move for move.

It was less than a minute before Sam’s thrusts became unfocused, scattered, and Gabriel groaned encouragement.

“Let it go, baby,” he whispered.  “Love to see you come.  Let me see you.”

Sam’s eyes squeezed shut and he tensed, emptying in heavy spurts into Gabriel’s heat.

Gabriel ran his hands up and down Sam’s sweaty skin.  He couldn’t stop smiling.  Sam pulled out and collapsed on top of him with a muffled moan, burying his face in Gabriel’s throat.

They were a  _mess,_  Gabriel noted. Come and lube and sweat everywhere, and they needed to get up and get clean, but it could wait. He had everything he needed, right there in the bed with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, if you didn't give up in despair at the end of chapter nine, congratulations! You have officially weathered the worst thing I've ever done to Gabriel and you made it out the other side. Have a cookie! Find me on [Tumblr](http://greymichaela.tumblr.com) and shout at me there if you like, I can take it.


End file.
